The Heart Wants What it Wants
by MandyQ
Summary: How does a young girl cope with one sister married and the other disowned? Perhaps in the company of a handsome young man? Could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Lucius & Narcissa before they were in love. COMPLETE. Please R&R. TDH compliant.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: The characters and Universe contained within this original piece of fiction are the property of people more creative and powerful than I am. I own nothing but a VW beetle and a couple of cats. And seeing as I own nothing, I haven't so much as the means to ask permission to use all of this. I have been very presumptuous indeed. Luckily, I am making no money by writing this and so- since no infringement is intended, I am likely not in trouble.

NOTE: I spent more time today trying to figure out (from the Lexicon) how old everyone was in relation to any other and when they were in school and then when they had children and then I tracked back who was in what year and with whom etc. I have it figured out pretty well now, If anyone needs relative age info for the Blacks and Malfoys, I can send you a table. I know now how old anyone was in any given year and so now I present to you:

**AUGUST: 1972**

"Miss Black," Narcissa looked up from the book she was reading. It was Lucius Malfoy. She thought it odd that he would be in attendance at this party. She smiled at him nonetheless, and greeted him politely.

"Mister Malfoy," she called, "how lovely to see you." She held out her hand to him.

"The pleasure is all mine," he answered her, crossing to her and kissing her outstretched hand. "You're looking quite well," he told her.

"Why thank you," she answered. "Won't you have a seat?" she invited. Malfoy nodded and seated himself comfortably in a chair opposite her.

"Thank you," he said, smiling at her.

"You're welcome," she said back to him, closing her book and setting it to the side.

"You really do look quite lovely this afternoon," he told her, "might I ask why you're avoiding the party downstairs?" Narcissa blushed slightly. She had always thought Lucius Malfoy to be quite handsome, and he had certainly never paid her a compliment before.

"I might ask you the same thing," she answered him coyly. "But if I had to hazard a guess, I would wager that you and I are having an equally foul time downstairs for the same reason."

"Really?" he jested, "we were both up here looking for you?" Narcissa stifled a giggle.

"I mean that neither of us is quite sure what to do at a party without An'. It's the first one we've had since she… you know." Narcissa looked down at her hands. She'd never known anyone who'd been disowned before and wasn't quite certain if it was at all proper to even mention her sister's name, much less her crime.

"Yes, I do," Malfoy answered her with a scowl.

"I apologize if I've offended you with mention of my sister's…er… departure," she said, "I will admit that I'm not entirely accustomed to any of this."

"Nonsense," he shrugged, "I doubt anyone knows just how to deal with such things when they're first encountered. You do not offend me, Miss Black; as you will not offend me with anything you wish to share as to the progress of your summer, now that your sister has," he considered for a moment, "absented herself," he finished.

"How thoughtful of you to inquire, Mr. Malfoy," she thanked him. "Really my summer has been mostly uneventful. Bella and Rodolphus have been in and out as though she still lived here. Which has been rather nice, actually, as I haven't yet grown accustomed to my current living arrangement."

"Your living arrangement?" he sounded genuinely interested, which surprised her greatly. She nodded and continued speaking.

"I've shared rooms with my two older sisters for as long as I've been alive," she explained. "And I live in a dormitory at school with four other girls, It's too quiet I don't remember it having been this quiet while An' and Bella were at school and I was left here alone."

"Perhaps it's different this time because you know they're not coming back?" he asked her. Narcissa shrugged.

"I suppose," she answered. She remembered suddenly a degree of social grace which she now feared this conversation had been lacking in and sought to remedy it presently. "But let's not dwell on unpleasantness," she offered. "I hear you spent your summer in Europe, Mr. Malfoy. How did you find it?"

"Boring," he admitted.

"Really? With all of those museums and cathedrals…?" she was stunned, "I can't fathom how you'd find it anything short of wonderful."

"Those museums and cathedrals you speak of are almost entirely filled with Muggles," he told her. "Things that wizards built millennia ago are being trampled through by Muggle filth in horrible short pants and letting their undisciplined offspring rub their grubby fingers across everything."

"Oh," she screwed her face into a frown. She hadn't thought of that. He appeared to be a bit distressed at her expression.

"I'm sorry," he said to her, "I did not mean to have taken so brusque a tone."

"Oh nonsense," she said back to him, "Your tone is no cause for alarm to me. I believe I mentioned that I've shared rooms with Bella for my whole life, and one must develop a thicker skin when part of such an arrangement."

"Ah," he answered, nodding his head in approval.

"So you spent all of your time in the Wizarding parts of Europe, then?" she asked. "There must have been something you found interesting," Lucius turned to her and frowned.

"I'm afraid not," he admitted. "I had a most dreadful time. I think my father only sent me in hopes I would come home engaged. It was as though every little Euro Trash whelp I came across could smell money on me from fifty paces." Narcissa grimaced. Lucius shook his head a little, "I'm being indelicate, aren't I?" he asked.

"A bit, Mr. Malfoy," she allowed him, "but I did ask."

"Needless to say, I returned home without benefit of a fiancé- much to my father's blatantly expressed chagrin."

"He can't really blame you for not falling for some girl you met while you were away, can he?" she asked. "I don't suppose a person could just dictate a summer romance to himself, do you?"

"I wouldn't know," he admitted outright. "All that I know is that I had not any interest in any of the simpering idiots I met while on the continent."

"The heart wants what it wants."

"Pardon?"

"The heart wants what it wants," she repeated, "that was the very last thing An' said to me before she left. I suppose she meant it as a warning of what she was about to do. Of course, how was I supposed to know that what her heart wanted was to run off any marry that mud… Muggle born?"

"Please, Miss Black," he addressed her, "you may speak freely to me. You will find I take no offense to your use of that term."

"Oh no, Mr. Malfoy," she disagreed. "What one thinks and what one says are two different things entirely. And a lady must always mind her tongue in the presence of a gentleman. A certain degree of propriety is to be observed, even among those who share our views." He grinned at her and nodded,

"You are of course quite right, Miss Black," he conceded. "Please forgive me."

"Well that shan't be difficult at all," she encouraged, "as you will find I have a most forgiving nature."

"I fear that will become quite a necessary trait if we are to spend any amount of time together," he posited.

"May I presume from that comment, Mr. Malfoy, that you believe that there are to be occasions in the future in which we may spend time together?"

"Please call me Lucius," he implored her, "I do believe that we can dispense with the formalities, seeing as we've known each other for some years now."

"But you are mistaken, Lucius," she replied with emphasis on his given name, "We don't know each other even now. You and I have certainly had dealings in the past, but I wouldn't dare say that we know anything at all about each other, really. We've lived but a few dozen meters apart for the past five years, but we've scarcely had a dozen conversations. And although the history of those conversations do allow for some familiarity in light of our status as schoolchildren, I do believe that upon your graduation we became no longer schoolmates and are now obliged to observe certain social proprieties in each other's presence. However you may call me Narcissa, but only if you answer my question. Do you, Lucius, foresee a future in which we might have occasion to spend time together?" Lucius chuckled.

"I believe I failed to study Divination," he admitted to her, "so I may only hope that there will be such an occasion, Narcissa."

"I believe I hold to a similar hope," she smiled at him.

"May I ask you for a dance, Narcissa?" he posed, leaning forward in his seat to look at her. Narcissa considered his question.

"I do suppose I should at least make an appearance at the party," she conceded. "Father will be cross if I hide in here for his entire birthday."

"And a gown such as that one deserves its turn on the dance floor," he added. Was it possible that he was flirting with her? No, that could certainly not be. But still she appreciated his attention to her in light of the situation. She could only presume that he had not heard the news of Andromeda before setting out for this afternoon's gathering. If he'd been in Europe all summer then that was certainly a plausible hypothesis. He'd been friends with An' in school, as they were in the same year, and he had often been seen outside of school with the Lestranges, through whom he had befriended Bellatrix. But Narcissa had always been off the radar of her sisters' friends. Lucius was being awfully kind to offer to keep her company.

"Why thank you, Mr Mal… Lucius," she said back to him. She stood from her seat, prompting him to abruptly abandon his own chair.

"Shall we?" he asked her, holding out his arm for her to take.

"Yes, let's," she answered, slipping her arm in to his.


	2. Chapter 2

**JANUARY 1, 1973**

"Lucius Malfoy, what a delightful surprise!" Narcissa turned in her seat to face their new guest.

"My father and I came with the Minister," he greeted her. He regarded the giant game board and amassed miniature armies on the dining room table, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he added.

"Not at all," Narcissa answered, smiling a little more brightly than perhaps was proper. "I believe you know almost everyone here." She stood and gestured to the others around the table. "You remember Bellatrix, of course,"

"Of course," he answered, bowing gallantly toward her.

"Rodolphus and Rabastan are in the blue salon with my father and some of the other gentlemen," Bella informed him, "You'd likely find their conversation quite interesting."

"I shall pay them a visit presently," he replied.

"You know Christopher Parkinson, Tiberius Nott, and my cousin Regulus, of course," Narcissa continued, "and his brother, Sirius; who we affectionately refer to as 'our Gryffindor baggage," Narcissa ruffled her younger cousin's hair in a way that made him wince. "These are his friends," she pointed out the two boys on either side of Sirius, "Remus and… er…" She had to think for a moment, "James," she finally declared.

"Gentlemen," Lucius nodded to them. Narcissa couldn't help but notice that they didn't seem at all concerned as they mumbled their hellos. Did they not teach manners where these boys had come from, or were Gryffindors just an impolite sort altogether?

"Pardon us, Lucius," Bella said to him, snatching the die from the center of the table, "but it's my turn and I need to give these little boys a bit of schooling. It'll be over soon, and we can let you in on the next game." Bella tossed the die out onto the game board, careful to miss the dozens of little pewter solders posted around it. When the die landed, a miniature General climbed from the top square and began barking orders at the set of pewter soldiers dressed in green. They marched forward as per his orders and proceeded to engage in battle with the soldiers in red.

"Ah," Lucius observed, "Wands Conquest?" Bella looked up at him and waggled her eyebrows. Lucius looked down at Narcissa, who wasn't fully aware of how bored she looked. "Another day, perhaps," Lucius answered Bella. "Narcissa," he asked quietly, "would you be so kind as to show me to the blue salon?"

"Certainly," she answered him, stepping out from in front of her chair. She led the way out of the dining room and into the hall.

"I have an odd feeling that I may have just rescued you from something," he posited.

"Oh not at all," she contradicted. "It's just my family. It's what we do. Every New Year's Day it's the same thing. More people than can comfortably fit around that table descend upon our house around noon. Then we eat more food than should be legally allowed and as soon as the table has been cleared, the boys drag out that enormous game board and play Wands Conquest well into the night. More than once they've been at it at until the sun came up. Apparently they have a need to play until each of them has conquered the world at least once."

"Just the boys?" Lucius sounded a bit miffed. "Bella was playing," he observed. Narcissa grinned as they mounted the stairs.

"Of course Bella was playing," she confirmed, "it's her favorite game; what with the Wizard armies subjugating all of the Muggles… and she is the eldest. The boys know she'd hex them all blind if they tried to stop her from playing. Personally I don't care for the game at all," she added, "it's much too violent for my tastes and it's really not at all realistic. If I wanted to conquer the world, I certainly wouldn't leave any piece of it up to a random die roll." Lucius grinned so widely that his eyes crinkled at the corners. Narcissa couldn't help but swoon a bit at that. He certainly was the best looking gentleman who'd come to call in recent memory. Even if he hadn't come to call specifically on her, she was determined to enjoy his company while she had it.

"But you were watching them play," Lucius reminded her.

"We always did," she told him.

"We?" he asked.

"An' and me," she answered uncomfortably. She had to admit that she was glad that her slip up and mention of her sister's name had been in front of someone who had known Andromeda well. Narcissa tried her best to cover up her embarrassment by continuing with her train of thought. "It was that," she said, "or sit in the parlor with the matrons and listen to them cluck about whatever the choice of gossip is this week. Perhaps I'm still too young, but I've yet to develop a taste for cackling about the misery of others. The fact that someone is beneath my station is enough for me not to ever wish to speak of them at all." Lucius held his arm to her as he caught up to her on the second step. Narcissa smiled and took it gladly.

"That's a fine trait for a lady to have," he told her.

"Thank you," she answered. "But I must say that I do manage to hear a few things… by accident, of course."

"Of course," he mused back at her. "Those stone walls of Slytherin are as thin as parchment when there's a story about," he jested.

"More so when the story stars the sister of someone who shares your dormitory," she added. Lucius looked down at her and frowned.

"I think I know what you're getting at," he told her.

"Really?" she asked as they reached the landing and turned to continue up the steps. "So were you going to tell me that you were engaged to be married, or had you just presumed that everyone knew?" Lucius put his hand on hers and squeezed lightly.

"Ah, Miss Black," he addressed her, "I fear that you have been taken in by a vicious lie."

"A lie, Mr. Malfoy?" she quizzed, echoing his formal address with her own.

"The rumors of my betrothal have been greatly exaggerated," he informed her.

"Seriously?" Narcissa's eyes got a bit wider than she would have liked them to. It was completely improper of her to express such an interest in the fact that Lucius said that he wasn't engaged. Sure, he'd been very dear to her since An' had run off, but she hadn't any right to meddle in his personal affairs. She hadn't even seen him since her father's birthday in August, and she'd only heard from him vis-à-vis a birthday owl he'd sent to her in November when she'd turned seventeen. Still, she couldn't help but be a little thrilled that he was still available.

"Quite," he answered her. "My father and Ignatius Bulstrode have been friends since before Hogwarts," he explained, "and Ellison was in my year. But I have not now nor ever will I have any intentions toward her, no matter what my father says." Narcissa frowned a bit, that sounded nothing like what had been spread around school.

"That's not at all the way I heard it," she told him.

"Really?" he inquired. He stopped dead on the steps and turned her to face him, one hand on each of her arms. Narcissa couldn't help but notice how close he was standing and she had to try very hard to keep her cool and suppress the goose flesh that was springing up on her arms in response to his touching her. Surely he would notice. He didn't seem to think anything was off, however, as he simply continued to speak. "Would you share with me what people have been saying, then?" he asked her. "I'd hate to have my reputation so soiled without knowing the cause of it." Narcissa bit her lip. She wasn't supposed to gossip. In fact, she didn't like the idea of gossip at all. But she had been the one to bring it up, and she supposed that Lucius deserved to hear what had been said about him.

"I suppose I could," she answered uncomfortably. "Imogene Bulstrode told me, of course," she informed him. "We're in the same year, as you likely know, and so we talk. I never mean anything by it, but things come out when you've got five girls all sharing a room."

"I hold nothing against you," he assured her. "In fact, I'll be grateful to have received the report from such an honest and contrite source." Narcissa smiled a little at that. How was it that he always knew the right thing to say?

"Well," she began again, "The way I heard it was that you'd fallen madly in love with Ellison and that your father didn't approve of the match. And so he sent you to spend the summer in Europe so that you'd forget about her. But that you'd come home still quite smitten with her, and you had only to convince your father to announce the engagement." Narcissa looked at him, deadpan, waiting for him to answer. He nodded his head slowly and then he… laughed? He was laughing.

"No," he said. He looked her in the eye as his head went from nodding to shaking back and forth. He grinned down at her and then offered her his arm again. She took his arm and they continued up the steps as he spoke. "I will spare you the sordid details of my romantic entanglements," he told her, patting her hand where it rested on his arm, "but I can assure you that the situation was and is nothing resembling that which you have just explained to me."

"Oh," she replied. Had he not just used the words 'sordid' and 'romantic' in the same sentence? Narcissa had to take great care in not letting the very un-ladylike thoughts in her head become apparent across her face as they reached the second story. "The blue salon is the third on the right," she informed him by way of changing the subject. She gestured to the hallway directly in front of them.

"Won't you join me?" he asked, as he led her toward the door. Narcissa shook her head daintily.

"No, thank you," she replied. "I'm afraid that talk of politics leaves a rather bad taste in my mouth," she admitted. "I'll never understand how it is that a group of fine, well-educated gentlemen can sit around a room full of cigar smoke and snorts of brandy and discuss something they all agree on. I always want to bring up the opposing point, just for some variety in the conversation. But then I think better of it and so I sit reciting multiplication tables and potion recipes in my head. I've learned now that it's best for me to keep out of such discussions." She smiled at him as they stopped in front of the door to the blue salon. "But it has been lovely to see you again," she said as she stepped away from him. "Please come and find me before you leave?" Narcissa could not believe she'd just said something so forward.

"It would be my pleasure," he answered her. He took her hand from the crook of his arm and kissed it lightly. Narcissa suddenly found herself at a complete loss for words as he opened and stepped inside the door to the blue salon. She'd barely been able to catch her breath before her sister came charging up the stairs.

"The hell's gotten into you?" Bella asked with a curious frown. Narcissa, who sill wasn't in full control of her faculties, just shook her head. Bella cackled and grinned. "You're sweet on Lucius Malfoy," she accused, her eyes widening and her mouth coming agape.

"No," Narcissa managed to squeak before she was really able to consider herself. She could feel the expression on her face, though, and was all but fully certain that her sister could see right through her lie. She was sweet on Lucius Malfoy; she was sure of it as soon as she'd told her sister she wasn't. "Maybe," she corrected herself. "Is that awful of me?" she asked her sister.

"Cissy likes a boy," Bella declared, "it's about damned time!" Narcissa let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding and smiled nervously at her sister.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Narcissa begged. Bella smirked. "Please?"

"Don't worry, Cissy, "Bella said back to her, "your secret is safe with me." Bella put her hand on the knob of the door to the blue salon. "You coming in?" she asked. Narcissa shook her head and shooed her sister inside. "Suit yourself," Bella shrugged. Bella quickly entered the salon and shut the door behind her. Narcissa frowned. Bella knew; and that made her crush on Lucius Malfoy just a little more real than she'd been quite ready to deal with. She was quite miffed.


	3. Chapter 3

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

This is dedicated to bigred20; the best fan a fic writer could hope for!

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**APRIL 1973**

"Cissy, hurry up!"

"I'm coming, Bella!" Narcissa checked her reflection one last time in the hall mirror and started down the stairs. It wasn't her fault that Bella and Rodolphus had called her down to dinner a full half hour before they had originally told her to be ready. She had gotten dressed as fast as she could and made what served as a passable attempt at taming her hair. It was rainy and humid outside and Cissy had long since given up on her hair looking anything resembling nice. Not that it mattered.

She was spending the last weekend of Easter Holidays with Bellatrix and Rodolphus in London and it wasn't as though she was out to impress either of them. In fact, it had surprised her greatly that she was expected to dress for dinner at all. She had presumed that Bella and Rodolphus had a more casual lifestyle than was to be found in her parents home; particularly since Bella used to complain at least once a week about being made to dress for dinner. Cissy didn't quite understand why it was that Bella had chosen to adopt such a custom in her own home. Dressing for dinner worked no real hardship on Narcissa, although the half an hour's change in schedule certainly had. She'd managed to throw on a sweater and skirt that were prim enough, if not what she'd call overly attractive.

"Cissy!" Bellatrix called again.

"Coming!" Narcissa called back, a tinge of annoyance creeping in to her voice. She dashed down the remaining stairs so quickly that she almost slipped and then she practically ran into the dining room. Much to her unpleasant surprise, she found it quite empty; the table was not even being set. "Where in Merlin's name are you?!?" she hollered.

"In here, Cissy," Bella called from the parlor. Narcissa shook her head and took off toward the sound of her sister's voice.

"If dinner's not on the table already, then why in hell did you insist on my being dressed so bloody early!?!" Narcissa bellowed as she entered the parlor. She looked straight ahead and her mouth fell agape. Narcissa was almost certain that she was about to fall over dead right then and there. Her sister had a visitor that she had not been informed of. "Why, Lucius Malfoy!" she exclaimed, "what a lovely surprise." Narcissa smiled at him as best she could and then turned to Bella and shot her as murderous a glance as she could. She resolved to hex Bella in her sleep tonight and turned back to Lucius.

"A pleasure, Narcissa," he answered her. What a gentleman to ignore her outburst like that. She really was going to have to curse her sister to kingdom come for this. If she'd been plotting something helpful, it certainly had not worked. Narcissa suddenly wished more than anything that she'd taken the five extra minutes to completely tame the waves in her hair and to apply a little rouge. And she felt as though her simple plaid skirt and cashmere crew neck sweater looked downright dowdy. She looked down at her very childish ribbed stockings and low heeled shoes and couldn't help but think how they completed her thoroughly unremarkable ensemble. Add to that her tardiness coupled with her most unladylike outburst and she was thoroughly mortified.

But since Disapparition to parts unknown was both rude and illegal and therefore most certainly out of the question, she looked back at Lucius. "I only wish my sister had told me you'd be dining with us this evening, I'd have been here to greet you when you arrived," she told him. Perhaps he would forgive her a degree of her behavior if she could somehow make it clear that she'd been expecting only family. But Lucius was an only child and he might not at all understand how sisters behaved toward one another when in the presence of only themselves. She did her best to keep smiling.

"Did I forget to mention that Lucius would be joining us for dinner?" Bella asked. Narcissa looked at her sister. Bella was enjoying this! She'd done it on purpose. "But certainly, I told you Cissy?" Bella added, smirking. Narcissa wanted to claw her eyes out. Bella had always had a sick sense of humor, but this was going way too far.

"No, Bella," Narcissa answered, doing her level best to conceal both the venom and the heartache that might be heard in her voice, "I suppose in all of the excitement of getting me settled in for the weekend it must have slipped your mind to inform me that we would be having company for dinner."

"Whoops," Bella mused. She was enjoying this far too much. "Well," she added, crossing to her sister with a drink in her hand, "no harm done, right?" she asked. No harm? Was she completely mental? Narcissa took the beverage her sister was offering and, never stopping to figure out what it was, knocked back a sizeable snort of it. No harm indeed. It occurred to her that she might not have wished to appear so comfortable drinking whiskey in front of Malfoy, but then she figured that she could likely do no further harm to herself in his eyes tonight no matter how crass she behaved.

"Please, Lucius," Narcissa addressed him, "won't you sit down?" Narcissa herself sat on the corner of a small sofa and gestured for Lucius to occupy a nearby wing backed chair. He nodded to her and sat down on the other end of the sofa. Narcissa had to catch her breath. Was he teasing her too? Were he and Bella and Roddy in cahoots with one another and just waiting to have a good laugh at her expense? Well, if they were- she wasn't just going to sit back and let them. "I want to hear everything," she told Lucius; her most poised and practiced smile on her face. "I feel so cooped up at school all year long now that everyone else is out and on their own. Tell me," she implored, "what's all going on in the real world?" She looked at him wide eyed. If there was one trait that Narcissa Black was proudest of it was that she could be more subtle and more charming than anyone she knew of.

"There's nothing much to tell," he admitted, shifting on the sofa so he was facing her as much as the other two. "And if I were to go into any of my exploits of the past several months, I'd likely bore you to tears. I'd rather hear how things are going for you over at Hogwarts. You've got Apparition testing coming soon, do you not?"

"Oh poppycock," Narcissa said back to him, "I'm certainly not going to drone on about Apparition lessons, you've done it; you know how tedious it is. There's certainly nothing amusing or interesting to tell there. I'd much rather hear what's happening in the rest of the world. Hogwarts never changes, but everywhere else things are happening all the time. Nothing ever happens to me at school, so I must get my _joie de vivre _vicariously through the wonderful things that happen to people of my acquaintance. You must have something fantastic you could tell me?" Narcissa folded her hands around her glass in her lap. She looked up at Lucius, her eyes wide and hopeful, her mouth curved into a perfect grin. He looked back at her; smiling in that way that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and her heart flutter madly in her chest. Damn him for being so good looking. And double damn him if he was helping Bella and Roddy play some cruel joke on her.

"I'm afraid, Narcissa," he answered her, "that you'd be quite put out with me were I to begin to share my exploits since our last meeting." He reached over and patted her arm. She could feel her whole body react to his touch and she wasn't fully sure just how she felt about that. She tried her best to sit still and remain poised as he continued. "I seem to recall that you have some distaste for the dirty business of politics," he posited, "and I fear that my life has revolved around such dealings almost exclusively. I haven't the time for any of the adventures I presume you wish me to share with you. Truly, my life has been rather dull of late. I spend my days in meetings with people who- how did you put it…?" He thought for a moment and then continued, "Already agree on everything," he finished. "And I listen to them argue about nothing, seeing as they're all on the same side, and no one is quite sure why there's an argument in the first place. But I suppose there's nothing that can keep an argument going on longer than two or more people who really have no idea what they're arguing about." Lucius raised his eyebrows and then took a sip from his glass of brandy. Narcissa stifled a giggle. He did have a point.

"If I may be so bold as to say so, Lucius," Narcissa addressed him, "you really ought to find yourself some diversion from the day to day humdrum you're describing. You're likely to bore yourself silly before you've had a chance to make any impact. If you're really out to be a master of the Universe you might consider some light hearted pursuit to keep things interesting." She really had been bold. Telling him he should find a pleasant diversion to fill his hours was tantamount to asking him outright to take her out some time.

"You are wise beyond your years, Narcissa," he said to her. There was that smile again. She had to struggle to remain composed but managed to answer him.

"I take that as quite a compliment coming from someone as wise as you are," she said to him. He nodded his head toward her and shot her a look that she could only describe as smoldering. She could feel her body tensing again. Narcissa wasn't entirely sure what was going on in her brain, neither was she certain that she would be able to properly behave herself for much longer were she to remain seated so near to him for another instant. She popped out of her seat and turned to address the three of them.

"I'll just go and," she caught her breath, "check on dinner," she finished. She looked Bella in the eye and managed a right nasty expression. "I would hate it if, in the excitement and all, you'd forgotten to inform the help that we were having company as well." She could see that Bellatrix was about to make some sort of remark to contradict her. Narcissa scowled just a little more and Bella thought better of it.

"Excellent idea, Cissy," she encouraged, smirking.

"I'm going to strangle you!" Narcissa mouthed silently before turning back to their guest. "If you'll excuse me," she addressed him, bobbing a tiny curtsy. She held her breath as she went out of the room and toward the relative safety of the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

**JULY 1973**

"The Crouch's are on my mother's mother's side, you?" Narcissa spun on her heel to face the voice she'd just heard. She sucked in a nervous breath and looked up at Lucius Malfoy, whose voice she would have known anywhere. Narcissa smiled warmly.

"Mrs. Crouch was born Charis Black," she explained. "She was my father's father's father's brother's daughter. Which makes her my first cousin twice removed, I think." She shrugged her shoulders. "No matter; she was a Black and so we're here. I came with my father. You?"

"I'm here on my own, I'm afraid," he answered. "My father was quite miffed that he couldn't get a meeting rescheduled, but thus is bureaucracy I'm afraid."

"I'm painfully sorry for that," she replied, "Funerals are such a drag to begin with, I'd hate to have had to come alone."

"Mm," he shrugged. "I will admit that I was pleasantly surprised to see you during the visitation this morning."

"That pleases me," she replied. "I would be further pleased if you would join my father and me for supper tonight. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you. I know I am."

"Nothing would please me more than to join you for repast this evening," he answered her. Narcissa was quite glad that he had answered her so quickly, as she wasn't sure that it lay truly within the bounds of propriety for her to have asked him at all.

"Excellent," she proclaimed, smiling slyly at him. She frowned a little and stepped closer to him. "I'm terribly sorry if I'm a bit too cheerful. I know this is a funeral, but it's the first real social event I've had occasion to attend since Christmas and…"

"No need to apologize to me, Narcissa," he assured her. "I must say I was finding this entire afternoon to be a thoroughly abysmal experience until I had the good fortune to run into you." She looked up at him and suddenly became acutely aware of just how close together they were standing. She signed a little and averted her gaze.

"Have you been to Kidwelly before, Narcissa?" he asked her, quite casually. It made her heart sink a little that he could be so casual when they were standing just inches from each other. Clearly she did not have anything near the affect on him that he had on her.

"No," she admitted. "I've never had occasion to visit Wales before." The land and manor of Kidwelly had last belonged to Narcissa's great great grandfather but had been long since abandoned as a private residence. It had been donated to the British Ministry of Magic some time around the turn of the twentieth century and had, ever since then, become the location of choice for the Ministry's more auspicious and well attended occasions. Deceased members of the Black family had been buried on this land since the days of the bubonic plague and the house had only been ceded to the Ministry on the condition that the family plot be maintained. It was for that reason that the house had been opened up on the occasion of the funeral of one Mrs. Charis Black Crouch. "Have you?" she asked in reply. It seemed odd to her that Lucius might have visited an ancestral home of her family before she had.

"Mm," Lucius nodded. "I was here three years ago for Millicent Bagnold's induction ceremony as Associate Minister for Magic. It was a dreadfully stuffy affair, rather less pleasant than a number of funerals I've attended." Narcissa grimaced.

"Sounds delightful," she offered. "I mean the induction of a new Minister."

"I promise you, it really was not," he assured her. "Have you been out to see the gardens?" She shook her head again, still not quite able to get past how very close he was standing to her. "Well then, we shall have to remedy that," he said to her. "There's nothing much going on here until nightfall, would you care to take a walk and look over the grounds?" Narcissa had to remind herself to breathe momentarily.

"Yes," she answered. "I would like that very much." He took a step away from her and toward the stairs descending from the rear veranda of the house down into the manicured lawn below. He turned his head around and seemed to be studying her for a moment. Narcissa felt his eyes on her as though they had corporeal presence against her skin. She couldn't be annoyed by this however; as she felt that she looked right fetching in her knee length and sleeveless black cotton pique robes. Even her ever challenging wavy tresses had been beaten in to cooperation.

"Are you coming?" he asked her. It was suddenly very obvious to Narcissa that she'd been standing stock still wondering whether or not he thought she looked pretty for so long that she likely looked a bit loony for having done so. Trying not to let her embarrassment come across her face, she nodded her head at him. "Well come on then," he encouraged. He held out his hand to her. She looked down at it in momentary disbelief. He wanted to hold her hand? Quickly she snapped out of her minor stupor and took hold of his outstretched hand before he had the chance to change his mind. He smiled at her and pulled her down the steps and along side him.

They walked along the gravel path across the neatly trimmed grass. Narcissa wasn't sure if she should bless or curse the path for being so narrow as to cause them to have to walk shoulder to shoulder. He kept hold of her hand and she delighted just a little bit every time their upper arms brushed against each other. "So tell me all the news from Hogwarts," he encouraged. "How is Imogene Bulstrode these days?" Narcissa chuckled a bit and looked up at him wide-eyed.

"Why Lucius Malfoy, I'm astonished at you," she chastised. "You're trying to get me to gossip. I won't have it." She stood up very straight and narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm only concerned as to what damage my own reputation has been dealt in light of the scandal involving your friend's older sister."

"Well," she crinkled her nose, "if you only want to know what others are saying as it pertains to you personally…" She rolled her eyes at him, "I suppose that isn't really gossip; now is it?"

"I admire your candor, Narcissa," he said to her, "but you'd simply be doing a gentleman the favor of allowing him to hear anything unseemly that may be circulating about himself from a friendly and trustworthy source."

"I believe I've heard that contention from you before," she offered, daring to intentionally bump his shoulder with her own. He pulled the hand he was holding in front of him at patted the back of her hand with his free one.

"And I can only hope that the same tactic works once again," he arched his eyebrows at her. There he went being charming again. She knew she couldn't resist that.

"Alright," she prefaced, squaring her shoulders. "You know that their older brother Edgar is getting married in October?"

"Yes, I'd heard that," he replied as he led her onto another path leading off of the lawn and into an arbor. "An American girl, isn't she?"

"Oh no," Narcissa answered him, "she's Hungarian; Hungarian Royalty, actually. Isabelle Bathory. She only went to school in America because L'ecole Ordinaire Nouveau was the only school she could find dark enough for her tastes."

"But she could have gone to Durmstrang," he commented. "If she's Hungarian she could have…"

"Oh I suppose you're right," Narcissa agreed. "New Orleans is darker, though; at least according to Imogene. I've not met Isabelle just yet, but from what I hear she's rather frightening to look at. They're getting married in Transylvania of all places and in October. It'll be cold and damp and ghastly weather and apparently she's chosen that on purpose."

"Sounds awful," he commented, "perhaps I should take that occasion to come down with some pernicious illness so as to make my apologies. If Ellison is even willing to look at me it'll be to curse me with something foul and it certainly won't be worth the trip if the weather's nasty." They had left the lawns altogether and were strolling along a tree lined path. Narcissa was enchanted by the wildness of the place and the wonderful smells of the flowering plants that seemed to cling to every tree and vine.

"I don't think I'd worry too much about Ellison if I were you," she told him, looking around at the woods and then back at him. "The current version of the story has her rejecting you in favor of Jasper Goyle; with whom she's already quite serious. They're talking about a wedding in the springtime. And thankfully, nothing could be more pleasing to Imogene than news of that because her father wouldn't dream of hearing anything about her getting engaged until Ellison is married. And I don't think it would be news to anyone that she's been carrying on with Matthew MacNair since we were in third year; making quite a fool out of both of them, if you ask me. How silly it is that any two people who are so right for each other have to sneak around and hide because their older siblings haven't been so lucky just yet. I suppose that makes me rather fortunate along those lines," she added, "with Bella married and An'…well… also out of the house, I'm pretty well free to do as I wish."

"Ah, I see," Lucius said back to her.

"Now see, I've bored you," Narcissa sighed, "aren't you sorry you asked?" Lucius chuckled a little and leaned his head down on top of hers for a second.

"No, no, not at all," he assured her. "I'm certainly delighted to know that the current version of things has her leaving me. It gets me off the proverbial hook, even though I'm not entirely sure what that does for my reputation. Being cast off by the likes of Ellison Bulstrode might not reflect so well." Narcissa rolled her eyes again and squeezed his hand.

"You really don't think anyone believes that, do you?" she asked him. "Everyone plays like they do, but no one of my acquaintance is anywhere near thick enough to actually believe something so ridiculous." Narcissa noticed that the path had opened up substantially, and yet he hadn't moved any farther from her. She was quite pleased with that, and she was ever more pleased when he quickened his pace a bit and led her from the trees into a clearing facing a wide and winding stream. The water ran quickly just feet from where they stood. Narcissa caught herself standing with her mouth agape and had to consciously compose herself before speaking. "This is lovely!" she exclaimed. Lucius let go of her hand and turned to face her. She suddenly missed the feeling of his skin against hers, but managed to keep her face from betraying her disappointment.

"It's even more lovely from the other side," he told her. Narcissa looked down at the swift water and then back at her companion.

"And how do you suppose we get across it?" she asked him. Lucius chuckled. He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear.

"Magic," he answered. Narcissa had barely a moment to delight in the feel of his breath against her neck before she heard a loud 'pop' and Lucius was suddenly no longer standing next to her. She looked up, confused. Then she caught sight of Lucius on the far bank of the stream, smiling broadly at her and holding out his hands as though he were getting impatient for her to join him. Narcissa suddenly felt a tightening in the pit of her stomach. She had a license to Apparate, but she hadn't really become accustomed to doing so and the fact was that she preferred not to use the skill unless absolutely necessary. It was becoming very necessary as she watched Lucius smiling at her from across the deep and running water. Narcissa smiled back at him and shrugged her shoulders.

She felt a tug at her insides and then the rather unpleasant sensation of being sucked through a straw. She suddenly and uncomfortably found herself on the other side of the river. She then realized that she had not only Apparated successfully across the river but also squarely into the middle of a very thorny rose bush. "Ouch!" she couldn't help but exclaim as she tugged and struggled to get away from the brambles, tearing her dress and her skin in the process.

She made quick work of all but one vine, which was stuck in the back of her leg. As she picked at the thorns to try and dislodge them, she heard a cool and firm, "_diffindo_." The vines fell away from her and she managed to look up at Lucius. He stood less than a few feet from her, wand in hand, and a very concerned look on his face.

"Thanks," she managed to get out before her total humiliation set in. She covered her face with her hands and walked a few steps toward the water.

"Let me see that," Lucius implored as he followed her toward the water's edge. He put his arm around her shoulder and lowered her to sit on the soft grass. He took hold of her right arm and studied it. "This is bleeding an awful lot," he commented. She bent her arm and brushed some of the blood away from the cut with her left hand.

"It looks worse than it is," she insisted. He took hold of the hand she'd brought around and examined her palm, which was gushing blood from a gash across the soft flesh between her thumb and little finger.

"And I suppose you're going to tell me that this one doesn't hurt at all?" he quizzed. She frowned and tried to close her fist so he couldn't see it anymore.

"It's fine, really," she said. He shook his head. She could tell he was having none of it. Lucius reached in to the pocket of his waistcoat and produced a handkerchief. "_Aguamenti," _he called out as he brought his wand forth. He placed her hand under the running stream of water and she found herself having a very hard time not wincing in pain. Once he had washed away a sizeable amount of blood he dropped his wand to the ground and wrapped his handkerchief around her wounded hand.

"This is not fine," he informed her. He looked her up and down and she frowned thinking about how ridiculous she must look. She did not revel in the idea of what she might look like there on the ground with her robes torn in several places and blood seeping from wounds too numerous to count.

"I'll be alright," she assured him. "Just…" She wanted to Apparate back to her room at home and never show her face again. "Just let me sit here for a minute." She frowned, trying not to let her humiliation spill out of her tear ducts no matter how natural that would seem. "On the ground," she added, "in the dirt like a ragamuffin." She was going to cry and she wasn't going to be able to stop herself.

"We should get you back to the house," he insisted. "Someone should look at that hand. And your arm and your leg," he added. She winced and nodded. "That has to hurt," he empathized. She nodded. She was loathe to admit that she was in pain, and even more so to admit it in front of Lucius Malfoy.

"It hurts," she admitted.

"Trust me?" he asked her. She had no idea what exactly it was that he was asking, but she answered him by a nod of her head, the only expression she could come up with that she knew would not lead to any sort of pained outburst.

At first Narcissa didn't know what was happening. She felt Lucius' arms around her and then the unpleasant but familiar sensation of her spine being sucked out through her navel. She then found herself just meters from the back stairs of the manor house and being carried toward them like an invalid. For a moment she wasn't sure which would win: her desire to let Lucius hold her for as long as possible, or the desire to maintain her dignity as a lady of the Black family and not be seen by the others in attendance being carried like a child. "I can walk," she finally said, propriety winning out over baser inclinations. Lucius stopped and put her down.

"I'm sorry," he said to her, bowing his head in deference. "I forget myself," he added.

"Oh no, you're fine… it's just…" She had no idea what to say and her befuddlement was further compounded by a sudden feeling of wooziness. Lucius obviously noticed that she wasn't fully well as he caught her by her elbows to steady her on her feet.

"You're not fine," he observed. He turned her to look him in the eye, both of his hands still clasping her arms. Even in her pained and lightheaded state she felt a bit of energy from his hands on her. She shook her head and averted her eyes. "I saw Evelyn Crouch this morning," he told her, "she's a nurse," he affirmed. Narcissa nodded her head. She remembered Evelyn having attended to the birth of her cousin Regulus when she was just six years old. "You have a room in the manor, do you not?" he asked. Narcissa just nodded again. "I'll walk you upstairs and then I'll go for Evelyn. And you're going to let her take a look at that, okay?" he sounded like he was giving orders, but she was too embarrassed and in too much pain to take any offense at his tone. She shook her head.

"You go get Evelyn," she instructed, "and I'll go up to my room and get changed." He nodded.

"If you're sure you can make it," he encouraged. She nodded her head.

"It's the sight of the blood more than anything else," she admitted. "Thank you," she added as she turned and walked up the steps and into the house. She felt less and less woozy as she made her way up the stairs and through the narrow corridors of Kidwelly castle. In fact, she felt almost entirely well again by the time she reached the door to her room and retreated through it.

She made quick work of changing into a silk button down pyjama shirt and did her level best not to look at any of the bleeding cuts on her body. She sat at the vanity and tried to comb through her hair. She was completely disgusted to learn that her hair had become thoroughly matted and more than a few leaves had become stuck in it.

Evelyn arrived presently and Narcissa was more than a little happy to have an able wand available to stop the bleeding. She was given a draught for pain and another for swelling and scarring and told to keep still and get plenty of rest. As she bandaged up Narcissa's hand, Evelyn made sure to mention how useful the handkerchief had been in containing the bleeding. Narcissa thanked her and lay down on the little bed in the corner of the room. By the time she got the covers up to her chin there was a knock on the door. She reckoned that Evelyn must've forgotten something. "Yes?" Narcissa called.

The door swung open and Lucius Malfoy tiptoed through it. He gently closed the door behind him and as he did Narcissa took her chance to jump out of the bed and pat her hair into something resembling submission. She seated herself on a nearby chair and tried her best to look comfortable despite the fact that her bare knees were visible no matter how she situated herself.

"How are you?" he asked as he crossed to a chair near hers and leaned against the back of it.

"Evelyn tells me that I'm going to live," She answered. She could not bring herself to look at him.

"That is better than the alternative, to be sure," he said back. Narcissa frowned and wrung her hands in her lap.

"You must think me a great fool," she posited. Lucius came around the chair and sat down facing her.

"I think you a great many things, Narcissa Black, but I assure you that foolish is not among them."

"Oh come now," she sighed, "It takes someone remarkably thick to Apparate themselves into a thorny rose bush."

"A rose bush you had no idea was there," he comforted. He lowered his head to catch her eyes and smiled at her as she raised her head to look back at him.

"It was slovenly of me," she declared.

"Nonsense," he countered. He reached over and picked up her injured left hand. "Does it hurt terribly?" he asked. His voice sounded genuinely concerned. Narcissa resisted the impulse to hide her bandaged hand from him and simply answered.

"It's quite uncomfortable," she admitted to him. Lucius grinned and shook his head a little.

"You needn't observe arcane rules of propriety whilst you're bleeding, Narcissa," he told her. "If it hurts like hell, just say so." She shrugged her shoulders.

"It's not so bad as all that," she contended. "Evelyn gave me a draught of something for the pain."

"And Dittany so it wouldn't scar?" he asked. Narcissa nodded.

"I asked her if she had a tonic for my wounded pride but…"

"There's no need for that," he interrupted, "no one was even there."

"You were," she corrected him. "Actually, Evelyn suggested to me that I might put a memory charm on you to make you forget the whole dreadful episode, and I almost considered it. However, upon further reflection it occurred to me that, were a memory charm to go as well for me today as my attempt at Apparition, then you might end up forgetting your own name or how to eat with a fork." She shrugged. "In the end I thought better of it."

"I'm certainly glad that you decided against altering my memory," he informed her, turning her injured hand over in both of his. She wondered what he might find interesting about the back of her left hand. But she was perfectly content to let him hold her hand as long as he pleased. "If you had made me forget this afternoon I would have forgotten any mention of Edgar's wedding and perhaps I may have neglected to ask you to accompany me." Narcissa's head popped up and she had to consciously keep her mouth from falling open. Had he just asked her to appear in public with him? Had he just asked her to spend an entire weekend as his guest in Transylvania? Had he just asked her to leave Hogwarts for an entire weekend unchaperoned?

"I'd love to," she answered him, "but I can't." She frowned. "It's in October and I'll be at school. There's no way Slughorn is going to let me leave campus for an entire weekend to attend a wedding in Transylvania."

"You leave Slughorn to me," Lucius instructed her.

"You always were one of his favorites," Narcissa observed.

"I never understood why he never attempted to court you or your sisters into his inner circle," Lucius said.

"He did try," Narcissa answered, "with Bellatrix. But she was having none of it. She hexed his shoes to shrink right on his feet when she was in first year and he hasn't had any use for the Black family since." Lucius chuckled.

"Sounds like Bella," he commented. "Am I to take it then that, as long as I can convince Slughorn to give his permission, you'll come with me to Transylvania?" Narcissa nodded.

"Yes," she answered, her heart fluttering in her chest and her face getting hotter and pinker by the second. "It will afford me the opportunity to return your handkerchief," she added, regarding the bloody fabric that was sitting on the bedside table.

"Excellent," Lucius answered her. He kissed the back of her hand and then set it back in her lap. She was in equal measures excited at his lips touching her skin and disappointed that he'd let go of her hand. "Now to a more present concern," he addressed to her as he stood from his chair. "They're setting up for dinner now," he said to her, "do you still intend on joining the festivities?"

"Is it that late already?" she asked. "Surely it's not dinner time yet?"

"In an hour," Lucius clarified. "They want to make sure everything is cleared out before the sun goes down."

"Right," Narcissa confirmed. This was a funeral; and a Black family funeral at that. The service would start promptly at sundown and dinner would have to be completely cleaned up before then.

"Will you be with us for dinner, Narcissa?" he asked again.

"I'm not so injured as to miss a meal," she assured him. He shot her that smile again; the one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and elicited a response from parts of her body that she'd just as soon forget were there.

"Then I shall leave you to rest," he said to her, "I'll see you in an hour."

"In an hour then," she answered back. Rest could wait; she had to find a dress for dinner.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

chapter re-posted 23. Aug 2007 to correct teency minor canon error nobody likely spotted but me.

-MQ


	5. Chapter 5

**OCTOBER 25, 1973**

"Lucius, you must tell me how you convinced Slughorn to let me come!" Narcissa was wild with excitement. The port key had come by owl with a handwritten note from Lucius telling her how the travel was to be handled to and from the Bulstrode/Bathory wedding. She would use the port key on Thursday after dinner to bring her to the train depot in Bucharest, and then take platform 13 1/3 to Brasov. The train ride had been much shorter than she'd expected it to be. In fact, she felt as though she'd barely had time to recover from the air sickness that traveling by port key had caused her before the train had come to a stop at its final destination. A porter had come for her bags and she'd come off the train to find a smiling Lucius waiting for her on the platform. Now he was steering her out of the Brasov depot with his hand on the small of her back. Narcissa would have been thrilled enough at the activity and sheer foreign-ness of the place, but his firm touch and attentiveness made the experience that much more exciting.

"I just promised to invite him to my father's Christmas party," Lucius answered her as they rounded a corner and exited the station. He helped her into a waiting carriage and then got in behind her.

"Is that really all?" she asked. The porter loaded her baggage into the rear of the carriage and she heard the driver call for the horses to start.

"That is really all," Lucius answered her as the carriage lurched forward. "I was prepared for all manner of groveling, but he succumbed to my first offer."

"Well you can be terribly persuasive," Narcissa flirted. She was getting more and more thrilled every moment at the prospect of being away from school without her parents around.

"I think the most persuasive portion was that my father has gobs and gobs of money."

"Oh," Narcissa covered her mouth with her hands. Money was not a subject that was never discussed in her own family, but that might not be the case in circles where the fortunes were still so new as to be exciting.

"Was that terribly crass of me?" Lucius asked, his air that of a man who knew he had overstepped his bounds and yet didn't fully care.

"I suppose it was," she answered him coyly. Two could play at this. "But who am I to care if your family's fortune is so new that the galleons still shine? I'm just happy that you got old Slughorn to acquiesce."

"You know that type, Narcissa," he said, "I'm sure your family has their fair share of hangers on. With people like Horace Slughorn money talks and nothing else matters. The idea that he might get to consort with people of means was enough to get the man salivating on my boots." Narcissa chuckled.

"He is a social climbing prig, isn't he?" she commented. "That's precisely why Bella would have nothing to do with him or his little Slug Club." She winced a little, "What a horrible name for an association," she commented.

"It was for social networking," Lucius told her, "the whole exercise was as beneficial to the rest of us as it was for him. Maybe that's why he never bothered again with the Blacks; you ladies have enough social currency that you don't need any additional propping up at the hands of a portly potions master."

"Perhaps," she allowed, "but again I'll say that I don't care. I've gotten free of school for four whole days; if you count the weekend, which I do. I only care that I'm here to dance and to enjoy myself and to see Transylvania with a dear gentleman of my acquaintance. I'm going to explore the mysterious old castles that I've heard my aunt Walburga speak of hundreds of times. And did you know that the library in Brasov has a copy of the _Sinister Magister Nocturnum_? That's the darkest book of magic ever written- Hogwarts won't even allow one on the grounds. I plan to read every word of it. I can only hope it's in Latin. If it's written in Romanian then I shall have to be content to look at the pictures, but still it's…."

"Now Narcissa," he interrupted her, "you're not planning to spend this entire weekend reading, are you? I shall be thoroughly put out with you if I am denied the pleasure of your company for even an hour whilst we're here." Narcissa grinned at him. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up straight. She was certainly no expert on the subject; but if she'd had to guess, she would say he was flirting with her.

"I promise I shall be splendid company," she assured him, trying to make her naturally goofy grin appear staid and proper. "I'm certain you could have had your pick of all the young women in Wizarding Britain to accompany you this weekend and I can only figure that you've invited me to be your guest because you know I'll behave myself in the presence of all of the influential international gentlemen with whom you plan to hob knob this weekend."

"Am I that transparent?" he asked her smugly.

"You are," she teased.

"I shall have to be more shady in my dealings with you in the future," he posed.

"Oh there'll be no need for that, Lucius," she assured him. "But you could try being more straightforward. I've found that honesty can be quite refreshing; especially when it's the last thing a person might expect to encounter." Lucius laughed aloud. He had a wicked laugh; deep and guttural and masculine. It made her toes curl in her boots to listen to it.

The carriage came to a rather easy stop before a row of single story stone buildings. Lucius sprung from his seat and offered his hand to her. She took it gladly and stepped from the carriage as carefully as possible, not wishing to risk her steel gray traveling suit. Lucius took gave her his arm and she quickly tucked her hand around it.

He led her through a tiny wooden door that appeared from the outside to lead into a centuries old alley. On the other side of the door however, was a rustic but exquisite lobby to what Narcissa could only guess was an ancient hotel. "The porter will show you to your room," Lucius told her, "and once you've had a chance to put your things down and get comfortable, I would be privileged to have you join me in the salon," he gestured with his head to a large metal door to the right of the stairs.

"I shall be there presently," she informed him.

Narcissa followed the bellman up the narrow switchback stairs and down a rather plain hallway until they came to the door to what was to be her room. The bellman took her bags in and was gone before she even had the chance to retrieve a sickle from her bag to tip him with. She looked briefly around the room that would serve as her lodgings for the weekend. It was smaller than she was used to, but well appointed nonetheless. She sat on the squat little vanity stool and studied herself in the mirror. She looked close enough to suitable in her own opinion, and the truth was that Lucius had already seen her looking just as she was at the moment, so whatever attempt she might make to look slightly more attractive would likely be seen as both obvious and pointless. She thought it a smarter course of action to change into an outfit that she felt particularly pretty in and let her hair and makeup remain as they were for the evening.

It wasn't long until she'd changed into a cream colored cashmere tunic top and black mini skirt. She looked down at her legs and decided that the ensemble would get the most attention if she added sheer stockings and knee high boots. She did so immediately and studied herself in the mirror once again. Deciding that she was properly attired for whatever might be happening in the salon, she swept from the room and down the hall.

She tapped on the door to the salon and it creaked open to allow her entry. Several unfamiliar gentlemen and a few gaudily dressed ladies were sitting in a circle on mismatched pieces of furniture before a fire in a fireplace that took up the entire far wall. "Narcissa," Lucius welcomed her, standing to extend his hand. She held her hand out to him in return and he lifted her fingers to his lips, planting a tiny kiss on the backs of her knuckles. "Come in and sit," he encouraged, gesturing to the empty chair he'd just stood from. Narcissa gladly took the seat before her knees gave way in the wake of his kissing her hand. "Narcissa, I'd like you to meet some friends of mine," he said to her. He began gesturing to the others in the room. "This is Antonin Dolohov, and his wife Fazelda. Igor Karkaroff; he teaches the Dark Arts at Durmstrang Institute in Bulgaria. You've met Bartemis Crouch, Jr., I suppose. And you know Ivy MacNair and Christopher Parkinson." Lucius turned back to the married couple and Durmstrang Professor, "Gentlemen, this is Narcissa Black," he told them.

"Yes, yes," Narcissa answered him, flashing him her most socially acceptable smile. "And it's a pleasure to meet you all," she directed to the Dolohov's and Karkaroff.

"Pleased to meet you Miss Black," Karkaroff addressed her.

"Lovely to meet you," Mrs. Dolohov added.

"Charmed, I'm sure," Narcissa answered.

"Your sister and brother in law have just arrived," Lucius said to her. "And I believe Rabastan is with them. They'll be joining us shortly." He handed her a glass of wine from a nearby decanter and she mouthed a silent thanks to him.

"I didn't know Bella and Roddy were coming this weekend," she said. Lucius shrugged.

"Do you think your sister would miss a chance to wear velvets and drink gallons of wine from the finest cellars in Eastern Eurpoe?" he asked her.

"I suppose I should have thought of that," she confirmed. Bella did enjoy good wine. And any chance to look better than all of the other ladies in the room would draw Bella from wherever she might be otherwise engaged.

"So, Cissy," Bartemis Crouch addressed her. She thought it odd that he would call her that, but they were third cousins or some like and he had been in Slytherin with her until just last year. She supposed there was no real reason to take offense at his presumption of familiarity.

"Yes Barty," she answered back.

"Would you do us the favor of settling a dispute for us?" he asked her.

"I suppose I might be convinced," she answered. "What is it that you'd like to know?"

"We were just discussing the concept of blood treachery," Crouch answered. "Were you to fall in love with a mudblood, Miss Black, would you do as your sister did and run off with him?"

"A woman's heart wants what it wants, Mr. Crouch," Narcissa said back to him. She was a bit miffed at the mention of An' under such circumstances, but she had no recourse except for to answer his question. "But you take for granted the fact that I would have the opportunity to fall in love with a mudblood; which I would not because that would mean that I'd had occasion to speak to one for more than a passing moment. But if, for some reason beyond my control, I were to find myself wishing to be involved with someone of questionable parentage, I would do what any sensible woman who cared about bloodlines would do." Narcissa paused and took a sip from her glass. "I would marry whatever appropriate suitor was chosen for me by my parents and keep the mudblood as a lover. That way I would be doing my duty both to my bloodline and to my heart." She smiled at him over her glass. "Does that answer your question sufficiently, Mr. Crouch?" Barty Crouch sat back in his chair and nodded his head. Lucius bent down and whispered in her ear,

"Well played, Narcissa."

"It wasn't too scandalous of me, was it?" she asked, trying not to betray to the others in the room that she was speaking at all

"You were perfect," he assured her.

"I think that Lord Voldemort might take exception to even that," Dolohov commented.

"Then I suppose it's to my benefit that I neither know Lord Voldemort nor do I consort with anyone of less than proper lineage," she snickered.

"What rumblings have there been at Hogwarts about Lord Voldemort?" Christopher Parkinson asked, leaning forward in his seat and clasping his wine glass with both hands.

"Oh Christopher," Lucius chastised. "Couldn't we find something more pleasant to discuss in the presence of ladies?"

"Oh, I don't mind, Lucius," she said back to him. She took a sip from her glass and looked to him for any indication that he disapproved of her willingness to discuss the topic at hand. Lucius merely smiled and nodded at her. "I've not heard much stirring around Hogwarts," she directed at Parkinson. "But the name of this Voldemort character has begun being whispered in most of the better parlors in Wizarding Britain. It seems he's quite the rabble rouser," she commented, taking another sip of wine. "Only, not with rabble," she corrected, "with decent people. My Uncle Orion and Aunt Walburga certainly think that he's got the right idea."

"But do you think so?" Barty asked her. He certainly seemed to be acting oddly.

"I say more power to him," Narcissa answered. "If his aim really is to empower pure-blooded wizards to take back our own society from those who would infiltrate and try to change it, then I will certainly have no quarrel with him."

"Yes, but would join his followers? I hear that he's going to be raising an army soon; to take back Wizarding society and claim the rightful place of the pure-blooded. If it comes to war, will you join in and fight?" a familiar voice called from the direction of the door. Narcissa turned to greet the recent arrivals.

"Good evening, Bella," she said, "Roddy; Rabastan."

"I'd like to hear your answer, Cissy," Bella insisted as she made her way to the wine decanter. "Lord Voldemort is recruiting followers from the finest Wizarding families in the world. Do you plan on joining him?" Bella arched her eyebrows and took a large swallow of the wine she'd just poured herself.

"I don't suppose I'd be one to join in any sort of armed resistance if that's what you mean, Bella," she answered. "I've not the constitution for such things. I prefer to avoid violence if there's any chance to. But if this Voldemort fellow wishes to take tea in my parlor he would certainly be welcome to do so." She felt Lucius' hand on her shoulder and tilted her head to the side for a moment to rest her cheek on his hand.

"You don't think it's your duty to your blood line to join the fray?" Rabastan Lestrange asked her.

"My duty to my bloodline extends to not getting myself killed, Rabastan," she answered. "I'm not one to perform well under pressure, certainly you know that. I'd much prefer to support the cause by a more genteel and ladylike means."

"We'll all do what we're suited to," Lucius added.

"Don't you worry, baby sister," Bella cackled over her wine glass as she sashayed to lean on the fireplace next to her husband. "I'll be tenacious and brutal enough for the both of us." Narcissa chuckled.

"Oh, Bellatrix," she replied, "I certainly am counting on that."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"You are an excellent dancer, Lucius," Narcissa looked into the pale gray eyes just inches from her own and enjoyed the rhythm of the Viennese waltz they were enjoying.

"I'm surprised you're still on your feet in those shoes," he answered her. Narcissa had to admit that her feet did hurt her a little, but she would be damned if she didn't take the opportunity to have Lucius' arms around her for the entire evening.

The festivities had begun at dawn and all of the wedding guests had been ushered into chariots led by winged horses and brought up to the top of a mountain just outside of town. Once everyone had been brought in to the great hall of what they learned had originally been a monastery, torches and candles had sprung to life and the walls magically festooned themselves with crimson and steel colored velvet hangings and splashes of vine and oleander had seemed to grow up around them. The wedding itself had lasted a full six hours, with the guests able to sit for no significant portion of it.

"I will admit I hadn't planned for standing all day," she said to him, "but I'm having such a good time that I can nearly forget that my shoes are getting more snug by the minute." He twirled her around and she closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the music and the sound of her silk petticoats rustling against each other and the feel of his arm pressed firmly across her back directing her where he wanted her to dance.

"The music's changing to a Tarantella," he observed. "I hate the Tarantella, I have to think too much, care to sit and have a drink?" Narcissa opened her eyes and thought for a second. She hated the Tarantella, too; she had ever since Junior Cotillion.

"Yes," she nodded. Lucius led her from the frenzied dance floor and to a bench on the terrace of the old monastery. He flagged down one of the waiters and handed her a glass of wine from a tray.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked her. Narcissa nodded back at him. Her navy blue velvet ball gown was plenty warm, and the afternoon of dancing in a very crowded room had caused her face to flush a bit with warmth.

"I'm quite comfortable, thank you," she answered as he took a seat on the bench next to her. She looked back at the crowded ballroom and grinned as she watched the dancing couples twirling and twitching to the melody of the Tarantella. She looked over at Lucius, who seemed just as entranced by the dancing as she had been. "The ceremony was lovely, wasn't it?" she asked. Lucius nodded as he took a sip from his glass.

"It really was quite nice," he answered. "Did you understand a word of it?" He looked over at her and winked.

"Yes," she answered. The service had been sung by a cantor and in no language that she'd ever heard before. "I understood both of their names," she informed him, "and I think I caught the word for 'magic' but I could be wrong."

"Do you think Edgar understood any of it?" he asked. She stifled a giggle.

"I rather think he just barely knew when to answer back. He seemed to know enough to give the proper replies at the proper time, but I doubt he really had any idea what he just committed to."

"I suppose that's the hazard of marrying a foreigner," Lucius posed.

"And I have no idea why they felt the need to have the ceremony in Romanian, or Hungarian, or whatever language it was- since the two of them only have English in common."

"I'll never understand that either," Lucius agreed. The music had changed again and a vocalist had taken the stage to belt out some mournful tune in what Narcissa guessed was Russian.

"Oh," she almost choked on her glass of wine. She set her glass down on the bench next to her and stood up quickly, "I love this song," she declared. She began dancing the polka under herself, the rustling of her skirts punctuating the melody.

"You know this song?" Lucius looked surprised. "I didn't know you understood Russian."

"I don't," she confessed, "but I know this song in English. It's an old drinking song, Ukrainian, I think. My father used to play this on his piano when all of his old war buddies came by. You know he fought with Britain for part of the last Muggle war?"

"I didn't know that," he replied.

"Oh yes, several of my relatives did," she added, "It was one of those duty and honor things, like you all were talking about last night with that Voldemort character. Sometimes when there's a war on, you just fight for the side you've been born to. He was part of an all Wizards regiment that had been formed by the Ministry of Magic along with the Muggle Prime Minister… oh what was his name…?" Narcissa thought for a moment and shook her head, "Doesn't matter," she shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, they never really talk about what they actually did, but they come by the house every so often and they drink Muggle beer and sing drinking songs, and I've always liked this one." She smiled at him and began swaying back and forth in her seat as her feet continued to keep up the dance steps. "_Those were the days my friend, we thought they'd never end, we'd sing and dance forever and a day. We'd live the life we choose, we'd fight and never lose; those were the days, oh yes those were the days,_" she sang under her breath. A breeze blew across the veranda and Narcissa couldn't help but shiver a little bit. Lucius moved closer as though he must have noticed. She smiled apologetically at him and he reached his arm around her. Narcissa's breath caught in her throat. She had to think very hard about what she had ought to do next. They were sitting at a very posh society party hosted by Hungarian Royalty in full view of anyone who cared to turn their head and he had his arm around her.

This was now her very favorite song.


	6. Chapter 6

**DECEMBER 21, 1973**

Her plan was going perfectly; so far. It had been easy, really, to get permission from her parents to stay at school over the Christmas holidays. She did have her N.E.W.T.'s coming up in only a few months and an expressed need for the peace and quiet of Hogwarts minus the students was enough to get them to support her decision not to come home.

She'd had no real interest in the goings on this Christmas at home anyway. It would be the same as every year, only with a more potent topic of conversation. The whole family would gather at her aunt and uncle's home in London. She'd be forced to sit around listening to her aunt Walburga and her uncle Orion and Bella and the Lestranges and all of the friends of the family chatting endlessly about this Voldemort person in whom she'd very little interest left. All anyone I her social circle ever talked about anymore was Voldemort. It seemed as though the talk of him had migrated back to Britain with those who returned home from the Bulstrode wedding and it would undoubtedly be the chief topic of conversation at all of her family's gatherings this holiday season.

And she also didn't relish the idea of dealing with her cousin Sirius and the merry band of Gryffindors he insisted on bringing home with him. She'd heard the news from Regulus, who was a Slytherin and much less annoying, that Sirius would be bringing three of his friends with him to London this Christmas and that Regulus himself was wrangling for an invitation to a friend's house so as not to put up with Sirius and company.

The permission to stay at school had been the only easy part, however. Now was the difficult bit. Professor Slughorn would be attending a party tonight in Wiltshire and she was determined to charm her way into going with him. Unfortunately, Slughorn had been scarce for days; ever since all of the members of his Slug Club had gone home for the holiday. She had no idea how to manage an invitation even if she were to run into him, but she was certain there was no way to get herself invited along without running into him.

She decided that Slytherin wasn't the place to be, and neither was the library. So she set herself on a bench near (but not too near) to Slughorn's office that had a pleasant view of the grounds through a window. She brought out her copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ both as a potential conversation starter with Slughorn and because she really was concerned about her Potions N.E.W.T. score. It wasn't too long until she spotted Slughorn out of the corner of her eye. He was headed out of his office in her direction and she had to work extra hard at concentrating on the book in her hand. She had decided that, if the end of the day had come and she hadn't been given the invitation she was after, she'd use a charm on Slughorn to make him ask her along.

"Ah, Miss Black," Slughorn addressed her. Narcissa looked up at him and smiled.

"Good afternoon, Professor," she greeted him.

"I received an owl this afternoon from Abraxas Malfoy," he told her.

"How lovely for you," she answered.

"Yes," he agreed, "yes it was. I'll be attending a gathering at Malfoy manor tonight and this letter has beseeched me to bring you along."

"Oh," Narcissa's eyes grew wide. She hadn't expected this. How delightful. She didn't have to charm or connive or use devious means to go with Slughorn to the party tonight, Abraxas Malfoy had demanded her attendance.

"We'll be traveling by Floo, as the Malfoys have connected their home to the network for the evening to facilitate easier travel to and from the party. I'll expect you at my office door at seven o'clock on the nose.

"Yes sir," she answered, nodding her head. Well this was almost too easy. And what did Abraxas Malfoy want with her?

The rest of the afternoon went by remarkably quickly. Narcissa barely managed to get her hair to cooperate with the up do she insisted upon creating when she noticed that it was already twenty minutes until time to leave. She threw on a set of green taffeta dress robes on and clasped a set of tourmalines around her neck and wrist and into her ears. She'd never been quite so thrilled to have the dorm to herself as in the five minutes she spent in front of the mirror deciding on what shoes to wear. She finally decided on a pair in silver velvet with a low heel and a ribbon tie closure. They were tall enough to make her legs look nice but not too tall as to prohibit dancing. She certainly hoped there would be dancing.

She really had no idea what was going to go on at this party at all. It was both the Malfoy annual Christmas ball and the observance of the Winter Solstice. There may be dancing or there may be only a mystical observance of something or another. Narcissa knew that the Malfoys were as dark a bunch of wizards as any in her family and she certainly wouldn't be surprised if there was some ritual to be witnessed tonight. Truly, she'd only wanted an invitation so that she could run into Lucius, but it had occurred to her in the intervening moments from the time she'd been told to come along until she was on her way to Slughorn's office that there was no real guarantee that Lucius would even be at the party. She covered herself with a long black cape as she scurried toward Slughorn's office. She was not about to let soot from the Floo come anywhere near her lovely outfit, velvet shoes, or perfectly made up face.

When Slughorn met her at the door to his office he was dressed in an absurd pair of green velvet trousers with a plaid waistcoat, paisley bow tie, and corduroy jacket. He looked like an overstuffed set of very tacky parlor cushions. "Evening Professor," she addressed him.

"Ready to go, Miss Black?" he asked as he ushered her past him and toward the Floo. She nodded. "In you go," he insisted, holding out the pot of Floo powder for her to grab. She slid her leather traveling gloves over her delicate and manicured fingers and reached into the pot. She scooped up a handful of the powder and tossed it into the fireplace beneath her feet.

"Malfoy manor," she called out her destination, all the while wishing silently that Lucius not be in the room when she emerged on the other side.

Narcissa was pleased when she opened her eyes on the other end and discovered that the room she found herself in was empty. The Malfoys obviously had the good form to understand that a person would need a moment to compose him or herself after emerging from a Floo and before entering a party. She dispatched with her gloves and cape and checked her face and hair in a mirror near the door. She was pleased with how well her hair had held up under the hood of her cloak and that her face and dress had been spared being marred by soot. She smiled at herself and headed out into the party.

She hadn't gotten far until she felt a hand on her elbow. She spun around quickly to see Lucius grinning down at her. "So glad you could make it," he said to her.

"I'm glad to have been invited," she simpered at him. "There's nothing like waiting until the last minute." She had meant to give him a hearty what for over the casual and last minute way she'd been invited. In fact, had she really had to charm or hex an invitation out of Slughorn she would likely have been right cool to him. But he was there with his hand on her arm and smiling and she couldn't muster any more venom than she just had.

"Your invitation went to your parents' house," he told her. "And then another to your aunt and uncle in London. And by the time I learned from Bellatrix that you were planning to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays I had no other option but to message Slughorn to bring you along." That made sense. She'd been at crossed purposes this whole time.

"But your father sent the message," she reminded him.

"Of course he did," Lucius answered her. "Slughorn's done enough for me recently, but he'll be beholden to my father as long as he's the richest wizard in Britain. And the invitation was sincere; my father is dying to meet you."

His father? Meet her? Narcissa felt a strange combination of excited and scared to death. She hadn't thought about meeting Abraxas Malfoy. Her parents had been introduced to Lucius long ago when he had first become friends with her sisters, but she had never had the occasion to meet any other members of his family. She swallowed hard and answered him. "I'd love to," she told him.

"In due time," Lucius said. Narcissa was a bit confused. "First," he added, steering her toward a door farther down the hall, "I have something for you." She looked at him with her mouth slightly agape.

"Something for me?" she asked.

"Don't sound so surprised," he countered, leading her through the door and closing it behind them. "It is Christmas," he pointed out.

"Yes, I know it's Christmas," Narcissa answered, "but…." He smiled at her; the way that made his eyes crinkle at the corners, and it made her go fully silent. He handed a large rectangular package to her. It was all wrapped in shining silver paper and tied with a bow that tied and retied itself in all manner of shapes at regular intervals. "Really you shouldn't have," she finished.

"Well if you don't want it," Lucius teased, placing his hands on either side of the package, "I'll be happy to…"

"No you don't," she contested. Narcissa grinned and sped to a nearby sofa to unwrap the gift. Lucius seated himself next to her on the couch and grinned wickedly at her as she tore at the paper. "You're up to something, sir," she accused when she caught the look in his eyes. Lucius raised his eyebrows and looked at her as if to say 'who me' but didn't say a word out loud. The paper was dispensed with quickly and Narcissa pulled off the top of the wooden box she found inside.

She gasped. "You didn't…" She looked again at the volume contained inside the box. "You couldn't have…" She shut her eyes and opened them again, sure that she wasn't really seeing what she was seeing. Sure enough, it was still there when she looked again. "How did you…?" For what was likely the first time in her life, Narcissa Black found herself at a complete loss for words. She was looking down at a red leather bound copy of _Sinister Magister Nocturnum_.

"You'll find, Narcissa," he answered the question she was trying to ask, "that there is very little in this world that money cannot buy."

"This is amazing," she told him, "I mean it's too much," she insisted.

"Nonsense," Lucius countered. "Consider it an apology for my monopolizing all of your tine while we were in Romania. You told me you wanted to get your hands on that book and you hadn't the time while we were there. You may bow peruse it at your leisure." Narcissa ran her hands across the soft leather cover of the book and then picked it up out of the box and set it on her lap. "Read the inscription," he insisted. Her eyes grew wide again. She flipped open the cover and read the handwritten note inside the book.

"Merry Christmas Narcissa Black. Yours truly, Lucius; 1973." She looked at him in amazement. "Oh, Lucius…" She covered her mouth with her hands. "I don't know what to say."

"I believe 'thank you' is customary," he answered. She grinned so widely as to be a bit embarrassed by the degree of emotion she was showing.

"Oh yes," she added, "Thank You, Lucius! Thank you." She stopped and clutched the book to her cheat. "But I don't dare take it back to Hogwarts," she told him. "Slughorn would have it confiscated for his personal collection before you can say 'dark magic'." She sat up straight and looked him in the eye. "Would you keep it for me?" she implored, "Someplace safe? Just until I graduate and then I'll send for it."

"Send for it?" he sounded incredulous. "I shall only agree to keep it for you if you promise to come for it in person."

"I suppose that can be arranged," she answered him. She opened the book to the first page of text and began to read.

"Oh no you don't," he chastised her, flipping the cover of the book shut. "I wouldn't have given it to you so soon if I'd thought you were going to spend the entire party in here reading it." She frowned and sighed.

"You're right," she conceded, looking down at the book again. "I suppose it would be terrible manners to sit in here all night with my nose in this book." Lucius reached for her hand and stood up, pulling her to stand next to him."

"And Narcissa Black is nothing if not well mannered," he reminded her. She gave him a hesitant smile but did not set the book down.

"Alright," she said, "let's go to the party. I can read this later." He led her toward the door and took the text from her hand. He set the book on a table and tapped it with his wand.

"No one can touch it now, except for you," he told her. That was a right useful spell. Narcissa vowed silently to learn that one some day. "You can stay the night if you wish, read the entire thing before the sun comes up." Had he just invited her to spend the night? Narcissa's breath caught in her throat.

"But school," she countered, "Slughorn would never consent to…"

"Narcissa, you surprise me," he accused. "After the events of the past few months do you seriously doubt that Slughorn wouldn't do anything my father asks of him?"

"I suppose he would," she conceded as they stepped through the door and into the entry hall of Malfoy manor. "But do you really think he'd let me spend the night?" she whispered. Lucius shrugged.

"I'll invite Bella and Roddy, too," he suggested, "and the Dolohovs are already staying over as is Christopher Parkinson and Tiberius Nott. And since Chris is staying, we're likely to also be in the company of Ivy Macnair, seeing as she's making quite a spectacle of herself over him. And I doubt seriously that Evan Rosier will remain sober enough to make it home in one piece. So you see, Narcissa, your staying the night here will not produce any scandals whatsoever."

"Well, since my cousin Evan is here and my sister and her husband will be present as well," she allowed, "I suppose there would be nothing untoward at all about staying the night. I can go back to London with Bella and Roddy tomorrow and catch the train back to school with everyone else next week."

"Brilliant,' he congratulated her. He led her toward the grand staircase in the center of the room. "The ballroom is on the fourth floor," he informed her, offering his arm, which she gladly took. "Shall we?" he proposed as they alighted the stairs. She nodded. "My father will be wanting your first waltz," he informed her. She tilted her head to the side and looked at him through half closed lashes.

"He can have my second," she said to him, "as I believe my first is spoken for."


	7. Chapter 7

**FEBRUARY 1974**

Narcissa scurried along as quickly as she could without actually running. She was late and she hated that, but she would hate it more if she were to fall face down in the snow or show up to her appointment out of breath. She knew, of course, that she should have left a full half hour before she did, but the cross-species switching spell she was working on had given her particular trouble and she was determined not to leave the greenhouse until the dogwoods turned to dogfish at will and with regularity. She now hurried down the path as fast as her feet would carry her, her eyes fixed on the ridge behind which she slowly watched the village of Hogsmeade come into view. She slowed a little as she reached the edge of town and could see the hands on the clock in the town square. She wasn't late. Narcissa stopped to catch her breath for a moment. She leaned against a nearby building and attempted to push errant sections of hair back behind her ears.

She felt a hand around her waist, and a hand close across her mouth. She tried to scream and to kick as she was being pulled into a tiny alley between buildings but she found her assailant had shoved something into her mouth. She was thoroughly panicked by the time she realized that it was a chocolate candy. The man who had grabbed her let her go and she turned around quickly, drawing her wand and firing off the best "_Stupefy"_, she could with her mouth full of chocolate. By the time she realized that the person in the alley with her was Lucius Malfoy, he was already stumbling backward in the wake of her silent casting. She ran the few feet to him, and grabbed his arm. "Lucius, she began, "Oh… Oh I'm so sorry. I just… I didn't… you scared me half to death… I…"

"It's quite alright, Narcissa," He allowed, standing himself up straight and smoothing his hair. He leaned against the wall she'd knocked him into and looked over at her. "That was very impressive casting," he observed, "You are Bella's little sister, aren't you?"

"Oh don't tease me," she implored. "What are you doing here?" she asked him. The adrenaline was beginning to pass out of her system and she was feeling a little more humiliated every minute.

"I came to surprise you," he answered.

"Well, you certainly did that," she exhorted. She looked down and put her wand away. When she looked back up, Lucius was holding out a box of chocolates with one tiny piece missing from the middle of it.

"Chocolate?" he offered. Narcissa nodded and took another piece from out of the box. "I was in the area," he explained, "and I thought I might be able to talk you into having a drink with me."

"Still feel that way after I hexed you?" she asked, covering her chocolate filled mouth with one hand and tucking her hair behind her ear with the other.

"All the more," he assured her. "I meant it when I said that I was impressed. We'll have you in the Dark Lord's service yet."

"Oh, don't talk like that," she urged him in a harsh whisper. "That's not even funny. Do you know what would happen if Dumbledore heard you say something like that? He'd bar you from ever speaking to anyone still at school. And he could do it too. Anyone who so much as mentions Voldemort, even to condemn him, is given detention for the rest of the year. And since when do you refer to Voldemort as 'The Dark Lord' anyway?"

"Since I've met him, Narcissa," Lucius answered her.

"No!" she contested, her eyes wide and a third piece of candy paused just at her lips. She looked around to make certain there was no one else listening and then she pulled him a few feet farther into the alley before whispering, "what's he like?"

"Patience, Narcissa," he instructed her. "Have that drink with me and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"I can't," she sighed. "I have plans. In fact, I'm already late. I'm supposed to be meeting Tiberius Nott for coffee at this new place here, Madam Puddifoots."

"Dinner, then," he suggested. She shook her head.

"Charlton Avery," she answered. Lucius laughed and took a chocolate for himself. "What's so funny?" she asked, picking through the other candies to decide on her next piece.

"And so it begins," he mused.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied, finally settling on a piece of chocolate and popping it into her mouth.

"The frenzied competition for your hand in marriage," Lucius told her.

"What?" Narcissa called, shaking her head at him. "There is no way that has anything to do with…"

"Narcissa," he interrupted her. "Surely you've noticed that every gentleman between the ages of seventeen and seventy has been vying for your attention of late." Narcissa stopped and considered his words. She had lately been on the receiving end of more male attention than she was used to. But that certainly had nothing to do with anything. She'd just attributed it to her finally being the only Black sister still at school and having come out of her shell due to that.

"Oh," she squeaked as the realization hit her. "I would never have connected…." She shook her head and studies the almost empty box of chocolates. "Friends I've had since childhood," she was rambling and she knew it. "Well I never!" she exclaimed. "I'm certainly not ready to think about anything like that until after my exams are finished. Oh, of all the low down, underhanded…"

"Narcissa," Lucius interrupted her again. She stopped talking and crossed her arms over her chest.

"At least I know you don't have any ulterior motives," she said to him. She realized quickly what she'd just said. She would certainly have to be more careful in the future. Lucius Malfoy was the one person she actually hoped had designs after her and now she had just told him that she was glad that he didn't. She silently cursed her inability to hold her tongue.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you," he countered. He was flirting with her; she was almost sure of it. She felt her knees getting weak and she knew she had to get out of there before her fool mouth got her into hot water.

"It really was lovely to see you," she told him. "But I must be going, I'm late already." She turned to go. "I'll be spending Easter break in London," she told him, "with Uncle Orion and aunt Walburga. Bella and Roddy will be there too. If it's not too forward of me to issue an invitation, I would very much like a chance for you to tell me about your…meeting?"

"I shall be honored to call on you," he answered her. Narcissa smiled and dashed off to try and make her appointment on time.


	8. Chapter 8

**APRIL 1974**

Narcissa awoke with a start. Or maybe it was a shudder. She wasn't rightly sure what had awakened her, but she felt suddenly very uneasy; the kind of uneasy you feel in anticipation of bad news. It was as if there was something happening that she was supposed to remember; that she was somehow aware of subconsciously but could not quite call to mind.

At first she tried to attribute her sudden wakefulness to her surroundings. She never had slept too well in her aunt and uncle's home. Their icky little house-elf tended to sneak in to her room at night and had given her quite a scare more than once. But there was no creepy elf to be found this time and she was truly unsettled for no reason she could fathom.

Narcissa tossed in her bed a few times and pulled the blankets up underneath her chin. She felt nervous, off-kilter, and thoroughly unable to go back to sleep. She'd been told she had a bit of a gift for Legilimency that she'd never cultivated, and that had been to blame for a few nights' lost sleep at Hogwarts when friends had been in crisis. This felt somewhat like that had felt, but Narcissa couldn't dream of why it was happening. She gave up on sleeping for the time being and decided to go downstairs and fetch a book to read in her room until she was tired again.

She didn't even bother to snag her dressing gown as she tied her hair up using her wand and tiptoed from the bedroom. She crept down the hall past the row of shrunken heads of house-elves that had been left there by her aunt Elladora and the rows of sleeping portraits of Blacks that had lived in this house before she was born. She slinked down the stairs, remembering where to step to avoid creaks; a skill she'd learned as a very small child when she would sneak downstairs to watch the older cousins play Wands Conquest on New Year's night after she'd been sent to bed.

When she reached the ground floor, she was a bit shocked to see the flickering of a fire from beneath the door to the parlor. She took the few steps to close the distance between herself and the parlor door. She pushed it open and looked around the room. It seemed as though there was no one in the parlor but that the idiot house-elf had simply left the fire to burn itself out. She shook her head as she crossed to the shelves of books on either side of the fireplace. She eyed the books curiously as she contemplated what it was that she wished to read about.

"Narcissa?" a familiar voice sounded behind her. She froze in her tracks. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she turned slowly to face the source of the sound.

"Hello Lucius," she greeted her unexpected company. Her voice was shaky and hesitant as she tried to ignore the fact that she was in her nightgown. He was seated on a high backed sofa facing the fireplace, an empty glass in his hand and a half-full decanter of brandy on the table in front of him. Narcissa shifted a bit as she wondered just what she should do next. "I didn't know you were here," she said. She really was trying to be polite and hospitable, but she couldn't help but dwell a bit on how self conscious she felt. Her flimsy silk nightgown showed far too much cleavage and far too much leg to be at all decent and she wasn't fully certain that he couldn't see right through it.

"I…" He looked over at her. She noticed that he looked a bit haggard; his hair was mussed and his eyes had dark circles beneath them. And she'd never seen him at anything approaching the loss for words he was having now. He stood from his chair, allowing his glass to fall to the rug, and took a step toward her. He stopped just inches from her. She could feel the warmth of his body through the thin silk of her nightgown and she could smell the liquor on his breath. Her heart pounded in her ears as she struggled to contain her own breathing. There was something charged about him; something wild and primal and stirring that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end.

He looked into her eyes and she could see an intensity in him that she had only imagined he was capable of before now. "I saw him again tonight," he said to her, his voice nearly a growl and his breath was hot on her face. His hands reached out and gripped her upper arms.

"Voldemort?" she asked, her breath ragged in her chest as her heart pounded from his nearness.

"The Dark Lord," Lucius confirmed, his tone unchanged and his gaze unwavering. "He's changing me," Lucius asserted. "He's going to change everything."

"Everything?" she wasn't sure at all what he was saying, but the heat of his gaze and intensity of his touch made her only want more of whatever it was he wanted to share with her. His hands slid up from her arms to her shoulders as he drew her slightly closer to him. She could feel her face getting hot and was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of the air on her neck and shoulders.

"The Dark Lord will see to it that wizards of proper lineage have the power we deserve," he said back to her. His voice was intense, his tone guttural, and his grip on her unwavering. "He will dispense with the Muggle filth and the blood traitors and the world will belong wholly to us." His hands slid from her shoulders to the sides of her face and as his fingers brushed the wispy hair at her temples, she brought her hands to his face as well. She traced the strong outline of his jaw, feeling the stubble of his whiskers and the muscles in his face with her fingers. She could feel her lower lip beginning to tremble as she saw his eyes close briefly in response to her touch.

"To us?" she asked, her trembling voice barely a whisper.

"Narcissa," he growled. She sucked in a shaky breath. Before she even knew what was happening, she was kissing him. And he was kissing her. His mouth was hot and insistent even as his lips were soft and inviting. His hands snaked through her hair, pulling her wand from her bun and letting it fall as he pulled her closer to him. Her arms went hungrily around his neck, as she continued to kiss him with all the fervor in herself. She pressed her body closer to him and she felt one of his hands moving from her hair to her waist. He pulled her to him, she could feel his body pressed into her and she wanted to just melt into him forever.

Suddenly his mouth left hers. He stepped away from her and dropped his hands to his sides. His eyes were wide and his head was shaking. "No," he said to her. She didn't know what she was hearing. One moment he was kissing her and the next he was backing away as though he was afraid of her. He had his hands held in front of him and his expression was somewhere between one of terror and one of disgust. "No," he repeated.

Narcissa felt ill. She bent down and retrieved her wand from where it had fallen and she looked back up at him. He had turned his back to her. She stood again and managed to whisper, "I'm sorry," as she went toward the door. "I'm sorry," she repeated again before tears overtook her.

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"I kissed him, Bella," Narcissa sat in the basement kitchen of her aunt and uncle's home and tried to explain to her sister what had happened the previous night.

"So you kissed him?" Bella retorted, stirring a lump of sugar into her tea. "So what?"

"So…? It was deplorable of me. I behaved like some kind of… of… loose woman," Narcissa answered. "And I thought he kissed me back, but then he just stopped, Bella. He just stopped and he said 'no' and backed away and…and I'm sure he thinks I'm some sort of a wicked hussy now and he'll likely never speak to me again." Narcissa was just about ready to cry when she heard footfalls on the stairs behind her. She sat up straight in her chair and wiped her face with the back of her hand. She saw Bella smirk and stand from her chair.

"Good morning Lucius," Bella called. Narcissa swallowed hard. She was a lady and she would conduct herself as such. She could cry and moan to her sister all day long but she would allow Lucius to see nothing but cool indifference coming from her.

"Good morning, Bellatrix," he greeted her. "I would like to thank you again for your hospitality of last evening," he said as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Any time, Lucius," Bella answered. Narcissa could see by the look on her sister's face that Bella was up to something. She could only hope that Bella was hexing Lucius under her breath.

"And good morning to you, Narcissa," Lucius addressed her. Narcissa put on her best unaffected society face and turned her head just enough to be sure that he'd see her face.

"Good morning, Lucius," she said to him coolly. She turned immediately back to her teacup and shoved a muffin in her mouth so as to avoid having to speak further to him.

"I trust you slept well," he said to her as he rounded the table and took a seat across from her. How dare he? He should have known full well that she hadn't slept a wink last night. She cast her eyes at him and then down at her tea again.

"Tea, Lucius?" Bella offered. Narcissa could hear venom in her sister's voice and for once didn't mind having such a vicious protector.

"No thank you Bella," he answered. "I must be taking my leave of you ladies presently," he said to them. "A rather pressing matter of family business has come up," he explained, standing again from the chair he's only just occupied. "But, Narcissa," he added, his eyes searching for hers as she purposefully averted his gaze. "Narcissa," he repeated.

"Yes?" she answered, sounding as uninterested as was possible.

"Cidrella Cassledine and the Symphfeign Sorcerers are playing Bach tonight in Castle Cary at the amphitheatre. I would be most pleased if you would agree to join me." Narcissa's mouth fell open. Of all the ill mannered things he could possibly have done this morning… after what happened last night….

"She'd love to," Bella answered for her. Narcissa looked at her sister, a questioning and unhappy look on her face. Bella looked back at her in such a way as to convince Narcissa that her big sister knew what to do and that she should go along with it.

"Yes, I would love to, Lucius," Narcissa echoed.

"Excellent," he answered. Lucius sounded a little bit surprised, actually. "I shall be here to collect you at five o'clock," he informed her. "Until then, ladies." With that he turned and scooted up the stairs and was gone.

"Bella!" Narcissa threw a wadded up napkin at her sister who had popped herself up to sit on the desk. "What was that? 'She would love to'? I most certainly will not! The last thing I want is to spend how many hours with him after what's just happened?" Narcissa put her head in her hands. "Did I mention I was just in my nightgown?"

"Cissy," Bella counseled, patting the younger girl on the shoulder. "Lucius may have been an arse last night, but I doubt he seriously sees you as a…how'd you put it…loose woman. Likely he was just surprised by the whole episode."

"Surprised? No, you should have seen the look on his face. He was thoroughly disgusted. How am I supposed to get through an entire night alone with him after that?"

"Best case scenario, Cissy, he wants to apologize," Bella offered.

"Right," Narcissa spat, no little sarcasm in her voice, "as if Lucius Malfoy has ever apologized for anything in his life."

"Well, maybe not," Bella allowed. She leaned over backward and snagged a sausage off of a nearby plate. "Maybe he's forgotten about the whole thing," she suggested.

"Maybe," Narcissa sighed, "although I must say I do not particularly fancy the need for that as an option. My first kiss… and I have to hope that he's forgotten about it so that he'll not think me wicked and beneath his attentions."

"Oh just go to the concert, little Cissy," Bella urged her. "And you just let me know if you need me to hex him 'til his eyes pop out. You know I'll do it."

"Oh, I know you will," Narcissa agreed with her sister. She felt a little better.

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Five o'clock had come and gone, as had five fifteen, and five thirty. Narcissa wasn't certain if she was more angry or sad as she sat in the parlor staring down at her shoes with a glass of elf made wine in her hands. "It's half past, Bella," she said to her sister, who was sitting next to her on the high backed couch. "He's not coming," she asserted. Bella put her arm around her sister.

"Don't you fret Cissy," the dark haired girl comforted, "I'm getting a real knack for the Cruciatis Curse and I'm certainly not above using it on a man who's made my sister cry." Narcissa leaned her head against her sister's shoulder.

"You're awfully sweet, Bella," she said, "but I think the use of an unforgivable curse might be a bit much for this situation. Perhaps you could just make all of his hair fall out?"

"Oh no," Bella perked up a bit. She was always in her element when she was plotting revenge on someone. There'd be no help for Roddy if he were ever to do her wrong. "I've got it," she insisted. "I can make it to where his…" Whatever Bella's revelation was about to be was interrupted by the sound of the door slamming open and a yelp from the house-elf who had tried to let whomever it was in.

Lucius swept into the room, his cape swinging behind him and the cane he'd taken to carrying recently gleaming in the firelight. "I apologize for my tardiness, Narcissa," he said to her. He bent down and kissed her hand and then pulled her to standing. "I beg your forgiveness." Narcissa wasn't entirely sure how to react to that as she was being pulled toward the door. "We haven't time for the usual pleasantries, Bella," he explained. "I shall have your sister back in one piece before midnight," he called behind him. And with that they were out the door. "I truly am sorry," he addressed to her as he led her down the walk and to a waiting coach at the curb. "The pressing business I mentioned this morning turned out to be much more complex than I had anticipated and I fear that time just got away from me." He'd helped her into the coach and stepped inside, seating himself next to her. He tapped his cane against the roof of the coach and the carriage lurched forward. "I rather have to apologize to you for the conveyance as well," he added, "We'll be going rather more quickly than I would ideally have chosen. But we'll not be late." Narcissa nodded, wondering if he was ever going to let her get a word in edgewise.

"I'm rather sorry you had such a difficult day," she said to him softly. He turned to face her for the first time this evening and he brought the hand he was still holding into his lap.

"Don't you worry about me," he comforted her. "That part of my day is over, and I'm here to enjoy an evening of beautiful music with an equally beautiful companion." He kissed her hand again. She had no idea what was going on. He was acting as if nothing at all had happened between them. Perhaps Bella had been right. Perhaps he had been much drunker than she had figured and by now he'd decided that he had imagined the whole thing.

The carriage got to Castle Cary faster than Narcissa thought was possible without Apparating at least part of the way. They disembarked the carriage right at the edge of the amphitheatre and a maitre'd led them through the aisles to their seats. He left them with a bottle of elf made wine and a basket of cheeses and pastries.

The amphitheatre was really nothing more than a sloping hillside into which had installed a series of domed wicker shelters. There were benches beneath the wicker domes with cushions and blankets and little tables for wine and goodies to be set upon. The stage was cut into the neighboring hillside just high enough on the slope to make every seating pavilion have a lovely view. Lucius helped her down onto the cushioned seat and then settled himself next to her.

The music was just getting started as he uncorked the wine and poured a glass for each of them. Narcissa smiled up at him and took a sip from her glass. "This is good," she commented. Lucius nodded.

"I'm glad you find it satisfactory," he said to her, taking a sip from his own glass. "Are you warm enough?" he asked. Narcissa considered for a moment, she was a bit chilly, but she wasn't sure she was about to admit even this little weakness to him until she was quite sure that he really had forgotten last night. She shrugged; it was the most noncommittal thing she could think of. He smiled over at her and scooted himself a little closer to her. He spread the blankets out over her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He pulled her to him and she lay her head on his shoulder.

Narcissa wasn't sure if it was the soft soothing music, or the cool night air, or the wine, or the fact that she'd not slept a full hour the previous night, but she found herself quite sleepy. She wasn't sure how long she'd managed to stave off the slumber, nor did she have any idea how long she'd slept, but she was acutely aware of the fact that she was awoken by the sound of applause signaling that the concert was over. She sat up straight and shook her head. Her eyes came wide and she looked over at Lucius, who seemed quite amused.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked, knowing the answer but not able to wrap her mind around it fully.

"You did," Lucius confirmed for her. He stood up and helped her to her feet. "Come on," he encouraged, "I'll get you home." She frowned but followed as he led her back to the carriage. Once they were comfortably seated and on the way home, the humiliation of what had just occurred fully set in.

"I really am so sorry that I fell asleep, Lucius," she apologized to him, "it's just that… the wine and the music was very soothing, and… and I hardly slept last night…."

"Don't worry about that, Narcissa," he comforted her. "I'm hardly offended by it. In fact, I'm actually quite flattered."

"Flattered, Lucius?" Narcissa was not just a little confused.

"To be able to sleep soundly in the presence of another is a sign of real trust," he said to her. "I don't think I've ever trusted anyone so well as to fall asleep near them. It pleases me that you're comfortable enough in my presence to relax that much."

"Oh," she considered for a moment. That was an awfully sweet sentiment, but she was still rather embarrassed. "I'm still sorry. I really just didn't get a good night's sleep yesterday…."

"About that," he interrupted. Narcissa gritted her teeth. She did not want to hear this. She did not want to hear this at all. Perhaps sleeping was the best thing she could have done to make sure that this moment hadn't happened up until now.

"Oh please, Lucius," she implored him with all the level headed propriety that her sleep and wine clouded brain would allow her, "please forgive me for that. I don't know what came over me. I threw myself at you like a common trollop and I can only hope…"

"Narcissa," he interrupted her, grabbing both of her shoulders and looking her square in the eye. "I don't think you fully understand what happened between us last night."

"You don't?" She was very confused.

"Last night I met with the Dark Lord, I told you that." She nodded to let him know that she was listening to him, even if she wasn't so much able to follow where he was going. "It was a life altering experience. I've begun down a path in the service of the Dark Lord that I have no way of even beginning to appreciate. When you came in to that Parlor looking…" He paused and exhaled sharply, "looking like you did; I was so full of brandy and self doubt that I couldn't stop myself from kissing you."

"You kissed me?" she asked. She was just a little more confused. She had kissed him- she knew that. She had no idea what he was thinking.

"I did," he confirmed. "I kissed you; and when you kissed me back I knew immediately that I might not be able to stop myself from taking things further than that. And because you're not a common trollop I couldn't let that happen." His eyes were pleading for her to understand what he was saying. She nodded. "The least that would have resulted from that would have been me hating myself. I couldn't bear of bringing the kind of dishonor on you that I might have if I'd had my way last night."

"And had Bella or father found out, I suppose that it might have resulted in an ill-advised marriage proposal," she considered.

"It might," he agreed. "And I fully intend on doing that when the time is right. But Narcissa…" He took her face in his hands and his eyes never left hers, "When I propose to you I want you to know that it's because you'd be doing me the greatest honor possible, not because of any need to avoid dishonor." Narcissa's breath had suddenly left her. She felt a tear fall onto her cheek and she bit her lip to keep a small sob from escaping.

"Then I shall be looking forward to that day," she said to him, "with fond memories of this one to keep me until it comes." Lucius brought her face to his and placed a tiny kiss on her lips.

"As will I," he whispered, leaning his forehead to hers.

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**I do not usually update more than once in a day. Some days I update twice. This makes 3 for today on this story and 1 chapter on another piece here at FFDN. I think that's some kind of personal words per day record. This chapter has wanted to be written since I decided that I wanted to explore the journey of Lucius and Narcissa from adolescence through youthful romance and into Death Eater territory. This chapter was really hard to write in that it explores the beginnnings of something lovely and of something concurrent that is wholly destructive. Hitler had a girlfriend too, and madness is not always so blatant as to exclude the normalcy of all feeling. Please let me know what you thought. It was my first kiss. **


	9. Chapter 9

For Renie and the Moo, bigred20, & WretchedOne; THANK YOU- I needed the encouragement after Chapter 8. Here is the next installment. More later :)

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**JULY 1974**

Narcissa had totally lost track of time. She'd been home from school for only a few weeks and the idea of having left school for the last time was still new and thrilling in her mind. She'd taken to sitting up very late in her room and pouring over all of the wonderful books of magic she'd been given upon her graduation. She'd spent the entire day previous playing at some wonderful concoctions from her hand transcribed copy of _Moste Potente Potions_ and she was rather proud of a few of the draughts that were still simmering and steaming in cauldrons throughout her bedroom. She was even rather pleased with the draught of submission that she was almost certain had been successful and how its altogether pleasant lavender scent wafted throughout the room drowning out anything that might have smelled foul.

She felt like a bona fide grown up. Her potions were working and her bedroom smelled like that of a lady. She remembered her mother's room always smelling of something wonderful and slightly spicy and suspicious. But the potions had to stew; some of them for months before she really knew whether or not they'd work correctly. And after she'd changed the colors of half the cushions and candles in the room so as to altogether eliminate the pinks and purples of her childhood in favor of silver and white brocades, she had become almost bored with using her wand for no real reason. It seemed odd to Narcissa that she'd finally discovered the tiny joy she got from doing magic on her own and for her own purposes. She'd turned seventeen more than a year ago and had since been perfectly allowed to do whatever magic she wanted, but for some reason it wasn't until after she'd finished school that she really felt as though she had any right to use magic as she pleased.

Tonight, though, she was much more interested in the acquisition of dark and ancient knowledge that was off limits to those still in school. Of all of the books she'd received as graduation presents, none was quite as interesting to her as the one Lucius had given her last Christmas. She lay completely under her covers with only her wand for light, drinking in every word of _The Sinister Magister Nocturnum_ and feeling a little bit like she was getting away with something. She'd had Bella help her sneak it back to her house with a promise to let her read it later on, and she reveled in the fact that her parents knew nothing about it whatsoever. It was a very grown up secret. The Latin was easy enough for her to read, but the handwriting could be challenging. She'd considered using magic to translate it, but had thought better of bringing such dark magic off the page without a thorough understanding of it in its original language.

She heard a sound. Had she left a window open? Her bed creaked a bit and she got the sinking feeling that she was no longer alone. "_Nox_" she whispered, the light at the tip of her wand obediently went out. She slid the book farther under her blankets and peeked her head and her wand out from under the covers. The room was dark, but as her eyes began to adjust she was just able to make out the silhouette of a man leaning up against the far corner post of her bed. She sat up straight and tossed the covers down around her knees. The sound of the rustling bedclothes seemed to capture the attention of her unexpected guest and he turned his head toward her.

In the dim light of the moon as it filtered in through her window sheers, she was able to make out the familiar face of Lucius Malfoy. "I'm sorry to wake you," he said to her. His voice sounded raspy, as though he were in need of water. He tilted his head back to lean it against the bed post and sighed heavily.

"I wasn't sleeping," she assured him. She climbed out from under the pile of blankets and over to the far edge of her bed. As she slid off the side of her bed, she couldn't help but notice how ragged he looked. His hair fell loose about his shoulders and was tousled beyond what was presentable. He was visibly perspiring and his whole body seemed to be trembling slightly. Narcissa reached out and took both of his hands in hers. "Come sit," she encouraged him as she led him to a chair that was pushed against a wall near her lavatory stand. His hands felt clammy, and his steps were uneven and tentative, but he followed her without protest and sank into the chair she indicated.

He looked odd to her. His bearing and appearance worried her enough that she hadn't but the most passing of inclinations to cover herself. She quickly wrote off the idea of doing anything for herself; after all, he'd seen her in her nightgown before. It was July, and warm enough to leave the windows open, and she was wearing a flimsy blue satin nightgown with spaghetti straps and an abbreviated hemline, but he was dressed all in black with a leather jacket and heavy boots on. "Let me take your jacket," she offered, it's warm in here." Lucius nodded and allowed her to unzip the front of his jacket. He leaned forward in the chair as she slipped the sleeves over his arms.

As she slid the jacket off of his left arm, she heard him suck in a sudden and pained breath. She'd never seen Lucius show even the tiniest indication of pain before, but she was pretty sure that's what had just happened. Narcissa lay his jacket out over the arm of his chair and looked down at his left arm. "Are you alright?" she asked him. "I should've been more careful," she added by way of apology. Lucius leaned back against the chair and the wall behind him and shook his head. Narcissa looked down at his left arm and she could see dampness on the black linen fabric of his shirt. "May I?" she asked, her fingers nimbly stroking the folds in his sleeve.

"Be my guest," he allowed, his voice betraying the level of his discomfort. She unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve and carefully pulled the fabric away from the sticky wound. Narcissa averted her eyes for a moment, careful not to show her revulsion to Lucius. She fell to her knees to keep herself from fainting altogether and looked at the blistering patch of skin on the inside of his arm.

"I've got a potion," she offered. She was having trouble speaking in light of her ever churning stomach and light headedness, but she was bound to do her best to fix this.

"No," Lucius insisted, shaking his head. She didn't understand. He was visibly in pain and he had come here for reasons he hadn't explained and now he wouldn't even let her minister to his wounds.

"Can I at least clean it up a little?" she asked. Lucius looked down at her for a moment and grinned.

"I forgot you can't stand the sight of blood," he kidded. She shook her head.

"Will you let me wash the dirt off please?" she implored him. Lucius nodded and let his head flop back against the wall again. Narcissa rose to her feet, confident for the moment in her ability to stand for a short period. She snagged a towel from her lavatory stand and poured water from her pitcher into the wash basin.

"How were your N.E.W.T.'s?" Lucius asked her as she was dipping the end of the towel in the water.

"Nastily exhausting as the name implies," Narcissa answered him. "Now don't you go asking me pointless questions while you sit there bleeding on my rococo chair." She wrung out the towel and began to dab it against the bloody mess on his arm. He leaned forward to watch what she was doing and winced a little every time fresh water touched the open skin. She was amazed by the look in his eyes while he watched her work. It was as though he were reveling in the wound. He was almost smiling between winces and it seemed to her as though he was beginning to relish the pain the longer it went on. He nodded his head, causing a lock of his hair to fall in to his face. The white blonde strands blocked Narcissa's view of his eyes and she instinctively reached the hand that wasn't holding the damp towel up to tuck his hair back behind his ear. Her hand brushed the side of his face and she gasped. Lucius' head shot up and his wild eyes looked at her. "You're burning up," she told him.

She turned back to the basin and rinsed out the towel. As she returned the blood stained cloth to his arm, she draped it across the wound and folded it over itself so that it put the tiniest bit of pressure on the blisters. She dampened another cloth and brought it to his forehead. "I suppose you're not going to let me give you anything for this either?" she asked, confused and impatient as she daubed the cool cloth against his brow. He shook his head again.

"It's magic," he told her. "And it's not mine," he clarified. Narcissa frowned and shook her head.

"I don't…" She wanted to say something, but she wasn't exactly sure how to, or even what it was.

"I'm to let this pass," he shared. "This is powerful magic," he told her, his breath becoming heavy in his chest. He sounded proud. Whatever was going on with is left arm; she was beginning to figure that he'd volunteered for it.

"It's Lord Voldemort?" she asked, re-wetting the cloth and returning it to his head. She wiped his face with it, and blotted it against his neck.

"Yes," Lucius answered her, "the Dark Lord has accepted me into his fold." Narcissa clenched her jaw. She'd known that the most devoted followers of Voldemort had begun to take some sort of mark on themselves. Bellatrix had been quite proud of hers when she'd shown it to her sister a few weeks ago.

"So this is his magic?" she quizzed. "He did this to you?" Lucius nodded. Narcissa put her hands on either side of Lucius' face. "This is doing nothing," she regarded the damp rag in her hand. "Take your shirt off," she insisted, "I'll get your boots." Narcissa was almost certain that she'd been much too forward and that she would suffer mortal humiliation at her own hands when she thought back on this incident in the future. However, she was also quite certain that he had a dangerously high temperature for which night air and cool water were the only treatments he would accept.

The buckles on his boots came undone without too much fighting and she unwound the leather straps from around his ankles. She pulled one off and then the other, and his socks right behind them. When she looked up from her task, she was pleased to see that he'd removed his shirt as per her instruction. Her eyes paused for a moment on his muscular chest and chiseled stomach. She looked over his defined and muscular arms and back again at the open wound on his left arm which had bled through the cloth she'd set there. She tossed the bloodied towel from his arm onto the marble top of the lavatory and pulled another from a stack on a shelf beneath the basin. She wet this one thoroughly and wrapped it snugly around his blistering forearm.

She put both of her hands into his and looked him in the eye. "Come," she implored him, urging him forward. Shakily, he stood from the chair and followed her. She led him carefully over to the side of her bed he'd been leaning on earlier and let go of him just long enough to move the blankets out of the way. "Lie down," she instructed. She really was waiting for him to tell her to stop treating him like a child and ordering her about, but to her surprise, he just nodded and followed her instructions. He carefully lay himself face down on the bed with his head buried in one of her silver satin pillows.

Narcissa scrambled back to the lavatory and picked up another clean towel and the water pitcher. She crossed to the one place she knew there was an empty cauldron, the result of a failed attempt at a hair straightening tonic, and poured the rest of the water from the pitcher into it. Narcissa brought the cauldron and towel with her as she climbed back onto her side of the bed. Carefully, she dipped the towel in to the water and wrung it out over the cauldron. She slowly wiped the perspiration from his bare back with the cool towel, causing his to sigh in what she only hoped was contentment. "Is this okay?" she asked. Lucius' head nodded slightly against the pillow.

"Feels good," he encouraged. For that moment Narcissa was almost able to forget that Lucius was painfully wounded and suffering from what might be a dangerously high fever. She enjoyed the idea that Lucius was lying on her bed, letting her rub his bare back, and telling her that something she was doing felt good. She preferred enjoyment to worry, and so it was with tenderness more than concern that she repeatedly wet the towel, wrung it out, and ran it over his fevered back.

It wasn't too long until his breathing slowed and became deeper and more even. He was sleeping. Narcissa crept to the edge of the bed and set the cauldron and towel on the table by her bedside. She was careful not to move too much, lest she wake Lucius up. She was terrified that the slightest movement would disturb him and she would sooner cut her own hand off than wake him up in this state. She was sure that he was better off asleep until the fever and the bleeding passed. She carefully eased herself under the covers and moved her book from where she'd hidden it to its usual place beneath the bed.

She lay with her back to him and made herself as comfortable as she could. It wasn't long before she drifted off herself.

Some time in the night she felt him sidle up behind her and tuck his feet beneath her comforter. She smiled into her pillow and sighed. She couldn't wait until morning.


	10. Chapter 10

**SEPTEMBER 1974**

"Cissy, this is the fourth one in so many weeks, child." Cygnus Black was pacing around his study, puffing on a pipe, and giving his daughter a slightly amended version of the same speech she'd heard thrice already.

"I know, father," she placated him, "but…"

"No 'buts', Narcissa," he answered her. "It's time you started taking this seriously."

"I am serious, father," she answered him, "that's why I've not accepted anyone yet." Narcissa shook her head. She was fighting a losing battle and she knew it. If she didn't play her cards exactly right just now, her father would wind up making this decision for her. And her mother was being no help at all. Druella Rosier Black sat quietly bent over her embroidery in the corner of the room behaving as though this conversation did not concern her in the least. "When I told you that I wouldn't insist on your telling anyone 'no'," she argued, "I did warn you not to expect me to accept the first man who asked."

"No, nor did I," Cygnus answered, sitting himself in his favorite leather chair. "I did not expect you to accept the first proposal that you heard. But four of them, Narcissa? You needs be thinking to your future."

"I am thinking of my future," she contended. "It's a big decision; to spend the entirety of the rest of my life with someone. I can't just agree to get married so that you can feel pleased with yourself."

"It's not myself I worry about, Cissy," he corrected her, sitting back in his chair and crossing his legs. "It's my girl that concerns me. One day I'm not going to be around anymore and I need to see to it that you're cared for properly in my absence."

"You look plenty healthy," she told her father. "And if by 'properly' you mean that I have to marry someone you approve of, I assure you that I would never dream of doing otherwise."

"I beg your pardon, young lady," he corrected her. "I'll not have my own daughter taking that tone with me in my own house."

"Oh father, don't be thick," she insisted. Cygnus furrowed his brow at her. "I know full well what this is about."

"And what, pray tell, might that be Cissy?" he asked. Narcissa could tell that she'd just about gotten him angry and she was beginning not to care so much.

"An'," she spat back. "This is about An'. Well, I am not my sister. I have no interest in speaking to someone of less than honorable lineage, much less marrying one."

"You should know better than to speak that name in my presence, Narcissa Black," her father growled, leaning forward in his seat. She shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

"Just because she ran off and did something stupid and disgraced the family does not mean that there is any chance that I'll do the same. And the shameful behavior of one of my sisters should not dictate that I'm not allowed to marry whomever I choose."

"Narcissa," Cygnus' voice had softened a bit and he regarded his daughter with quiet eyes. "It's no real care of mine who you marry; so long as he's a pure blood and he thinks like we do. But you're nearly nineteen, and it's no surprise to me that the sons of all of the better families in Britain are vying for your hand. If you've your heart set on someone, dear, just tell me that and I'll do what I can for you. Otherwise…."

"I haven't," she shook her head. She was lying and she knew it. She'd had her heart set on Lucius Malfoy for longer than she was sure she could recall. And hadn't he promised her a proposal that night on the way back from Castle Cary? He'd since spent a night in her bed, but no proposal had come.

She felt her face get hot as she remembered waking up that morning to find herself alone in her room. She'd have thought she might have imagined the whole evening, but for the indented pillow and rumpled sheets next to her. Lucius had slipped out sometime during the night and was nowhere to be found. She could only presume he'd gone home to Wiltshire. But then she'd not heard from him; not a word in more than two months. She had all but given up on ever seeing him again, much less on the proposal of which he had so eloquently assured her.

"There's no one father," she repeated her sentiment. "I'm just…" Narcissa sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "I'm just not quite ready to make up my mind; not just yet."

"You'll be making it up soon enough, young lady," Cygnus warned her, "or else it'll be getting made up for you."

"Yes, father," Narcissa answered. "May I?" She gestured toward the door with her head. She'd had quite enough of this discussion and sincerely wanted to get some air. Her father leaned back in his chair again and shooed her with his hand.

"Get gone then," he said. Narcissa nodded and skirted quickly out of the room. She'd made it down the stairs and almost out of the back door when she heard a cackling voice behind her.

"I hear little Cissy's turned down four perfectly good marriage proposals."

"Hello Bella," Narcissa greeted her older sister without even turning around. "I don't know where you're getting your information," she added, "but you're quite right. Mother and father are up in the study, if you'd like to discuss it with them."

"But I came here to see you," Bellatrix answered, scampering to catch up before Narcissa made it out the door.

"Me? Why?" Narcissa asked, turning to face her sister.

"I came to invite you to London," Bella answered with a tiny sneer. "It's your first autumn out of school and I thought you might enjoy some of the more 'adult' social activities that come with being out of your parents' house. It might even give you the chance to run in to some old friends, if you know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I know exactly what you mean, Bella," Narcissa confessed to her sister, slinking down to sit on a bench near the door. "However I'm also afraid that the 'old friend' to whom you are referring would not relish the chance to run in to me." She shrugged her shoulders and frowned. In Narcissa's eyes, Bella was the world champion of romantic entanglements, and therefore she couldn't possibly understand the defeat that her younger sister was feeling.

"He asks about you," Bella cooed. Narcissa frowned and then rolled her eyes. "He's taken an apartment in London, you know?"

"I didn't," Narcissa answered, trying to sound as uninterested as she possibly could.

"Well, he has," Bella confirmed. "He has the lot of us over pretty regularly. And of course we see him at the Dark Lord's beckoning. And he asks about you quite often. He certainly seems interested in who's been asking father about you."

"He has a fine way of showing it if he gives a flying fig what happens to me," she countered. "Do you know that I've not so much as a word from him since July?" Narcissa stood up and leaned on the opposite wall, facing where Bella stood. "That's two months ago, and not so much as an owl." Bella shrugged. Narcissa thought that her sister's head would explode when she'd shared with her the events of that night, but Bella had seemed more interested in celebrating Lucius' having 'taken the mark' than the fact that her very proper little sister had spent the night with a man in her bed.

"Perhaps he didn't know what to write," Bella posited. Narcissa frowned at her sister and shook her head

"Dear Narcissa," she began, "thank you for your hospitality and for the use of your hand towel. Sincerely, Lucius." She crossed her arms over her chest and arched her eyebrows. "Now how hard is that?"

"So he's a terrible cad," Bella conceded. "So you can snatch him bald headed with your own two hands or hex him 'til he turns blue in the face for all I care, just come to London with me. Just come and stay with us for a few weeks." Narcissa grinned.

"As long as you promise not to let anyone in the house proposing marriage," she considered.

"It's a deal," Bella answered. "Now let's go pack your things and we'll pop right over there."

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Bella was acting like an arse and Narcissa couldn't help but think so. There were at least three dozen people in the parlor and she was being purposely excluded from whatever conversation was going on in there. Narcissa sat on the steps and stared at the magically locked door behind which there was some sort of meeting going on. Bella had said that it was just a gathering for members of the Dark Lord's inner circle, whatever that meant, but she hadn't any idea that the bunch of them would sequester themselves in the parlor and not let her in. She hadn't even managed to see who all was present.

She was seething to herself when she saw the door come open. The figure that stepped through it made her want to either toss the worst curse she could think of or beat a hasty retreat. In the moment that she took to consider which of those methods she might employ against Lucius Malfoy he managed to spot her in her place on the stairs. She decided too late on a retreat up the stairs as he managed to snag her elbow just as she was turning to bolt.

"Take your hands off me," she growled at him.

"May I speak with you?" he asked, not letting go of his grip on her.

"You most certainly may not, sir," she answered him coolly. "Now again I say take your hands off of me, if you please." Lucius raised his eyebrows at her but he did not let go.

"Please," he implored, "just a moment of your time."

"I am afraid that's quite impossible," she rebuffed him. "Now I will thank you to leave me be." She looked down at where his hand was on her arm.

"There is something I need to say to you," he told her, pulling her down the stairs toward him. She followed him begrudgingly both to avoid the potential of a scene on the stairs were they to be discovered and to avoid the potential embarrassment of a bruise on her arm. He swung her off of the bottom step and a few feet into the hallway behind the stairs.

"You have something to say to me?" she asked, anger beginning to well up in her chest and a nasty snarl beginning to conquer her face.

"I do," he answered her, his tone measured and normal.

"Well say it then, and get out of my sight." She was breathing harder than she would have liked but she didn't care for social grace at the moment. She was angry. For the first time that she could remember in her entire life; she was angry. She was as mad as hell and she was about to give him what for.

"Dear Narcissa," he looked in to her eyes and smiled warmly at her. This was not going to work. She met his smile with her icy gaze as he continued. "I thank you for your hospitality and for the use of your hand towel," he finished. So Bella had been running her foul mouth. Narcissa audibly grunted at the thought of the pain she would visit on her sister later.

"I see you've been speaking with my sister," she observed. "And if that's it, I shall take my leave of you now."

"Narcissa," he let go of her elbow, but his voice was enough to get her to stop and turn around back to face him.

"What, Lucius?" she asked him. Her anger was turning to exasperation and she had no idea why she wanted to stay and hear him out, but she did.

"I owe you an apology," he said to her.

"Too little, too late," she informed him. She turned on her heel again and began to walk away.

"What's come over you, Narcissa?" he asked her. Oh, he was in for it now. She spun around and glowered at him as she moved toward where he stood.

"What has come over me," she growled as she closed on his position, "is the impudence and the gall of a man who…" She grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him further into the hallway. Her voice lowered to a harsh whisper as she continued, "a man who shares my bed for a night and then is gone from sight before sunup without so much as a by-your-leave and then shows up months later as though nothing ever happened."

"Narcissa," he began, "it isn't as if I…"

"Oh I'm in no way ruined, if that's what you're going on about," she assured him. "The only person who even knows is Bella, and she's certainly not one to cast stones in that arena. But two months, Lucius? Two months without so much as a note?"

"I truly am sorry," he told her. It was fully infuriating that he was able to sound so unaffected. She wanted to reach over and claw is eyes out even as he was apologizing to her. "I had things to take care of that morning," he explained, "I was very busy."

"And every minute from that day to this, I'm sure," she answered back. She could feel her eyes filling with tears and she wasn't sure that she could even be bothered to care. "There are these things called owls, Lucius," she spat, "they've got feathers and they fly." There were tears visible in her eyes and she knew it, but she kept on with what she was saying. "It's the most remarkable thing; you can write on a piece of parchment and give it to an owl and he'll take it to whomever you choose." Her lower lip was trembling but the spite in her voice did not waver. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her.

"Please forgive me, Narcissa," he asked her, still calm, still collected. Damn him for his cool head and unwavering stalwartness.

"You can't do this, Lucius," she explained to him, "it's completely unacceptable." She took a deep breath and looked him squarely in the eye. "You cannot come to me when it's quite convenient for you and then forget that I exist for the rest of the time. I am neither your servant nor your concubine; although I'm sure you are lacking for neither, and I will not be treated as such. And I suppose you're not going to tell me anything as to what you've been up to since I've seen you last?"

"You're quite right about that, Narcissa," he answered calmly.

"Of course I'm right," she affirmed, "because that's how you operate. You never share anything about anything with me or with anyone else for that matter and you…"

"Marry me," he interrupted her. What the hell had he just said?

"I beg your pardon?" she asked him. She was sure she hadn't heard him correctly.

"I said; marry me, Narcissa," he repeated himself, a sly smile on his face and his gaze never leaving hers. She blinked her eyes and furrowed her brow.

"Of all the low down tactics…" She was ready to spit in his face for that. He removed his hands from her shoulders and backed up a few paces.

"I mean it, Narcissa," he assured her. "I told you once before that I had every intention of proposing marriage to you when the time was right, and I hear that if I wait much longer I may have missed my opportunity." She shook her head. This was really happening. Of all of the times she'd imagined Lucius Malfoy asking to marry her, this had never been a scenario she'd come across. Narcissa wasn't sure what she thought about this.

"But I'm furious with you," she reminded him.

"As you should be," he asserted, "I've not always done right by you. And I do not expect to be so easily forgiven for any of my misdeeds. I wouldn't blame you stayed mad for years, but I would be exceedingly happy if you would do so wearing this." She hadn't noticed that while he was speaking he had reached into his coat pocket and produced a small varnished wooden box. He flipped open the box and Narcissa knew at once that not only was he serious, but that he had given this action enough thought to have brought along the appropriate accessory.

"Oh," she squeaked. One hand went straight to cover her mouth and the other reached for the sparkling platinum and diamond ring he had just presented to her. She imagined the ring on her finger for a moment and then she looked him in the eye. "It's beautiful," she managed to say to him before her eyes went right back to the diamond.

"It was my mother's," Lucius told her. She felt a shiver go through her whole body as she reached her fingers closer to the ring.

"Your mother's?" she asked. She knew that Lucius' mother had died when he was very young. She felt herself getting a little more teary thinking about the fact that he was presenting her with such an heirloom. "Then it's all the more precious," she whispered. Her eyes went back to his and then again to the ring. "Put it on me Lucius?" she implored.

"Do you mean it?" he asked.

"Put it on me," she repeated. He took the ring from the box and returned the box to his pocket. Lucius took her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger. Narcissa touched the diamond with her other hand and then she looked back at Lucius.

"You haven't answered my question, Narcissa," he reminded her. He took both of her hands in his and kissed each one. "Narcissa Black, will you marry me?" She sniffled a little and shook her head at him.

"Yes," she exhaled. "Yes I will marry you."


	11. Chapter 11

ADDITION TO DISCLAIMER: I am almost certain that I have nicked a line or two from published literature in this piece, in this chapter and in others. It comes naturally to me as both an actor and a fan of literature to take memorable lines and use them in real life- and then they wind up in fic. Anyone who does not have a mental highlight reel of the text from _Gone With The Wind _and _Scarlett_ will never know, but I wanted to mention this fact to avoid any appearance of impropriety were someone with said mental highlight reel to read this story. Now back to your regularly scheduled romance...

AND- this chapter has been retro-fitted with a term from TDH. 8/1/2007

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**OCTOBER 31, 1974**

Death Eaters; that was what Lucius and his cronies had taken to calling themselves. Death Eaters. Narcissa thought it a stupid title, but she dared not say anything in the presence of a full three dozen of them. The moniker called for the visions in her head of all of the silly 'clubs' that schoolboys were constantly coming up with to assert their superiority and keep out the girls and the kids from the other houses. Death Eaters. Death drinkers was more like it.

Narcissa had learned within an hour of Lucius' proposal that he'd neglected to get her father's permission to ask her for her hand. She'd insisted immediately that he do so, and put her beautiful ring back in its varnished wooden box and had since carried it around in her pocket until such time as she could openly wear it. The night had finally come.

Everyone she'd ever met, it seemed, had turned out for Ivy and Christopher's wedding. Narcissa had noticed just how many of her friends were there with shining diamonds on their hands and that had been enough to prompt Lucius to corner Cygnus Black and do the formal asking. She'd never seen anyone smiling so brightly as when Lucius had delivered to her the news of her father's blessing. She'd been almost undignified in her excitement to get the ring back on her hand and to finally show it off a little.

Narcissa took guilty delight in the fact that her ring was larger and more brilliant than that of any of her friends. She'd immediately showed it to Imogene Bulstrode, whose pretty solitaire from Matthew Macnair paled in comparison. She didn't even need to show Imogene's sister Ellison, as she spent the entire night admiring the stones from afar and frowning at the ring Jasper Goyle had gotten around to giving her only a few weeks previous. And she saw from across the room when Peter Crabbe actually punched Lucius in the arm over it; apparently the ring he planned to present to Leah Burke was nowhere near as spectacular either.

In the hours since the announcement of her engagement, Narcissa had found herself in the center of more debauchery than she could have previously imagined. It seemed this Death Eater lot really enjoyed Firewhiskey, and that was the one thing that the Macnair Parkinson wedding had going for it. The whole affair had been abbreviated and tacky as far as Narcissa was concerned, but it seemed as though the bar had been well stocked for the evening. The group of them had stayed as long as they needed to in order to not appear rude and then skipped out en masse to paint the town red, so to speak.

It had now been more than a few hours since they'd taken over _The Flaming Sword_, a pub on the seedier end of Knockturn Alley. Lucius had announced that drinks were on him for the night and the bunch of already intoxicated revelers proceeded to become even drunker. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had more than once disappeared to the alcove behind the stairs, Narcissa could only guess to take advantage of their marriage vows. The men were taking turns hurling glasses about with their wands, trying to come the closest to any of the sundry wall hangings without actually hitting one. Narcissa had thought this an asinine practice at the start, but the poor shooting and the copious amounts of liquor she'd since consumed had made it rather amusing to watch.

Narcissa enjoyed being the center of attention, even if that attention was from a bunch of drunken buffoons. As the youngest and plainest of three daughters, she'd never really experienced anything like this before and she had to admit that it was great fun. Of course, having toasts in one's honor every few minutes obliges a person to drink along with the ones making the toast. Narcissa wondered to herself how this was the one bit of propriety she'd managed to keep hold of in her slightly altered state, but she managed to take these Death Eaters drink for drink for the first hour or more.

Then she realized she was very drunk. Narcissa had never been drunk before. It just wasn't done. Ladies of her station were not supposed to be so callous as to imbibe spirits until their faculties had become impaired; but that's just what she'd done. She wondered why Lucius hadn't said anything, but it occurred to her that even if he could hold his liquor better than she, he still might be very inebriated himself. It hit her suddenly that she should not be in this place. Knockturn Alley was not a place for ladies to begin with, and this pub was known as a rather rough place in and of itself. It wasn't as though she mistrusted any of the others who were there; they were friends of Lucius and her sister and several of them were her distant cousins on one side or another. Still, she was a bit dismayed as to what it might do to her reputation if anyone heard tale of Narcissa Black having spent a drunken evening with these so-called Death Eaters in a pub in Knockturn Alley.

She turned to her fiancé, who had his back to her whilst taking part in a spirited conversation with Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch, Jr. about which she wasn't able to hear over the din of the other patrons. She tugged on Lucius' sleeve to get his attention. "What is it, dearest?" he asked her, leaning his head in toward her.

"I'd like to go," she said to him in as unaffected a tone as her current level of intoxication would allow. Lucius turned his whole body to face her.

"You're not having a good time?" he asked, sounding disappointed. She shook her head.

"I'm having a fine time, really I am," she assured him. "But it is almost midnight and I'm ashamed to admit it, but I think I may have had a bit much to drink." Her eyes were apologetic, although droopy. Lucius brought a hand to her face.

"Are feeling poorly?" he asked. She shook her head again.

"No," she answered. "But I fear I might embarrass myself if I were to stay here much longer. I oughtn't have come in the first place. It's highly improper for a lady of my station to…"

"Cissy," he addressed her. She frowned and snarled a little at him.

"Don't call me that," she ordered him. "That's what my parents call me, and my big sisters, and my stupid cousins. It's like I'm a little kid when they call me that." Narcissa was aware that she'd gotten her point across, but she had just enough logical function left in her brain to realize that she hadn't been so eloquent as she might otherwise have wished. Lucius was grinning at her. He could tell that she was drunk and it seemed to her that he was amused by it.

"I shall address you as 'Cissa', then," he posed. She thought for a minute. 'Cissa' sounded grown up enough, and no one else had ever called her that. She rather liked the idea of having a name for herself that only her husband would ever have called her. She smiled back at him.

"I'd like that," she confirmed. Lucius picked up her hand and kissed it.

"Cissa," he repeated, "there is no shame in celebrating. You're eighteen years old and you're at a party. You've not behaved in any way as to bring shame upon yourself, or on me, or on your family. But if you'd like to leave, I will be happy to escort you home."

"You don't have to leave with me," she insisted. "I'm a big girl and I can make it back to my sister's house without aid, I assure you." She nodded her head to punctuate her statement and she was suddenly aware of how heavy it was. Lucius reached out a hand to help her off her barstool.

"I have no doubt as to your ability to make it home," he assured her. "I do, however, take exception to the idea of my fiancé wandering through Knockturn Alley alone at this time of night." He arched his eyebrows as she hopped down from her seat. It was awfully scary out there, and she was finding her legs less than fully functional at present. He dropped a bag of what she could only guess was gold on the bar and nodded to the barkeep, then he placed one arm around her waist.

"Of course you may walk me home," she told him. "And, you know, with Bella and Roddy still here we'll have the house to ourselves when we get there." Narcissa knew that it was entirely the liquor that had prompted her to be so forward. She figured it couldn't really hurt, though. He'd already proposed to her, some of the formalities of association could certainly be relaxed. And she'd made up her mind hours ago that it was high time she seduced him.

"You tempt me," he whispered to her. His warm breath on her neck and the closeness of him made her want to drag him into that alcove under the stairs and dispense with her virtue then and there. He hadn't so much as touched her since they'd become engaged. More than once it had crossed her mind that he might have proposed to her for the reasons the other men had; the Blacks were a noble and ancient house of pure-blooded wizards, and any family aligned with them more than doubled their social currency in Wizarding Britain. She was more than a bit pleased to hear that she was at least 'tempting'.

She winked at him by way of reply and started toward the door. Lucius had his arm around her and she hadn't a single thought to remove it. That was yet another advantage of being officially engaged; she could walk alone with him in the dark and with his arm around her and the only talk it would incite would be of how dear a couple they were. They hadn't made it ten paces from the door when they were no longer alone, however. Evan Rosier, Edgar and Isabelle Bulstrode, Charlton Avery and Tiberius Nott were huddled in a group of others Narcissa didn't recognize which now included herself and Lucius.

The lot of them were cackling and laughing about something that Narcissa had managed to miss altogether. She hadn't much inclination toward laughing at the moment, however. She'd discovered that walking while intoxicated was much more difficult than sitting still while intoxicated and she had become increasingly grateful for the pillar of stability that was Lucius. She did not like being drunk and she vowed then and there to never do it again.

They made their way down Knockturn Alley, through Diagon Alley, and into and out of the Leaky Cauldron. Narcissa thought she noticed the crowd in there getting awfully quiet as the bunch of them passed through, but she wrote it off as an affectation of the drink on her brain and the noise of her compatriots. As they exited the Leaky Cauldron onto the Muggle streets of London, Narcissa had to remind herself that it was Halloween.

There were oodles of Muggles in silly outfits darting and dashing this way and that, and automobiles speeding dangerously down the avenue. One Muggle man began crossing the street and Narcissa watched Tiberius flick his wand just a bit. With that, the man's shoes promptly switched feet on him and he fell suddenly face first onto the pavement. The bunch of them laughed as they continued to walk. She supposed it really was funny. Lesser people falling on their faces could be rather amusing, and to Narcissa's alcohol soaked mind, it was that much more laughable. She allowed an audible chuckle.

Two intersections down, Evan Rosier pulled a deluminator from his pocket and extinguished every light in the place. "Wait for it…" he goaded the others. The group stopped moving and turned to see what it was they were supposed to be waiting for in the intersection. "Wait for it…" Evan repeated. Just then two autos came in to the intersection from orthogonal directions and slammed into each other at full speed. There was an audible groan from the group and a smattering of applause directed at Evan.

"That looks like it hurt," Isabelle declared through raucous laughter. That woman was frightening. The bunch of them walked on as Evan responded to Isabelle.

"Shouldn't go so fast without magic," he declared. Narcissa shrugged. He had a point. She looked at a house down the way a bit and pointed.

"And how's that one supposed to get down without a broomstick?" she asked rhetorically, shaking her head at a man standing on a rooftop near the end of the street.

"Like this!" Charlton Avery wound his wand 'round in the air until he had the attention of all of the assembled folk. He then pointed his wand in the direction of the Muggle she'd pointed out who immediately jumped head first from the third story rooftop, turned a back flip with three twists and then landed with a thud on the lawn below. There was more applause from the crowd and Narcissa had to stop herself from laughing harder than her woozy stomach would have liked.

"Good show!" Evan congratulated Charlton.

"I don't know," Lucius injected, "his form was flawless, but that landing needs some work."

"He may have to settle for the bronze," Edgar added.

"Shut up," Charlton countered. "I'd like to see you do better."

"I've done better," Edgar insisted. "Why, just last week I…." He was cut off by Lucius poking him in the chest with the end of his snake headed cane.

"There are ladies present," Lucius growled, turning his eyes briefly toward Narcissa and then back to Bulstrode. Edgar nodded and took a deep breath.

"My apologies, Miss Black," he offered.

"Lucius, I don't mind," she told him, "I can hear Edgar's boasting if he wants to."

"No, Narcissa, you really shouldn't," Lucius answered her. She couldn't help but notice that his tone was more firm than he normally took with her, and that he seemed to believe that on his word the conversation was over. He was looking at her sternly and she could see that he meant business, so she decided that it was best for her not to say anything further.

They had reached the turn off to Bella and Roddy's place anyway. Lucius and Narcissa took their leave of the group stealthily so as not to be followed by anyone wishing to share further libation with them. They sneaked up the steps and through the door.

Narcissa shed her coat and gloves and bonnet as soon as they were inside. She helped Lucius off with his cape and jacket and then took his cane and set it neatly into the Troll's leg umbrella stand by the door. She took him by the hand and led him toward the stairs. She had just mounted the bottom step when he asked her, "Where are we going?" She turned to face him. The stair she was standing on gave her a tiny height advantage and she leered down at him with half lidded eyes.

"Upstairs," she declared. Lucius nodded. He grinned at her in a way she'd never seen before. His face looked wicked and she could tell that he was well aware of exactly what she was implying. Part of her still could not believe she was behaving so boldly, but Lucius certainly hadn't taken offense to it. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Would you like me to tuck you in?" he asked her. She nodded her head and exhaled with a soft humming sound. She turned and started up the steps again, this time with Lucius right behind her. She reached the top of the stairs and dashed the several feet to the door of the bedroom that served as hers when she was there for a visit. She tugged Lucius by the front of his shirt through the door and pulled out her wand to shut it behind them.

"Mind if I get changed?" she asked him coyly. He flashed her the grin that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and leaned against the door frame.

"Be my guest," he allowed. Narcissa went to the armoire on the far side of the room and produced a pair of navy blue silk tap pants and a matching camisole. She was slightly annoyed with herself for not bringing along any more alluring sleepwear. She reached underneath her skirt and freed her stockings from her garters, kicking off her shoes while she did. Her garter belt came free and fell to her feet and she rolled her stockings slowly down her legs to join it on the floor. She pulled the tap pants on beneath her skirt and then set to work unhooking the back of her dress.

She had worn a cinched waist powder blue silk dress to the wedding which had an a-line skirt and a bateau neckline. She'd picked the dress with exactly this moment in mind. It perfectly accentuated her tiny waist and long legs, while making her bosom look exactly the way she wished it always would. She turned her head to make sure that Lucius was still paying attention. "Could you…" She pointed at the hook at the top of the back of her dress. Lucius nodded and closed the distance between them. He effortlessly unclasped the hook and took only the tiniest step back from her.

Narcissa reached behind herself and pulled the zipper until the dress was open to the waist. She shook the silk from her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor. Narcissa sucked in a tense breath as she let herself think about the fact that she was nearly half naked, with her bare back just inches from where Lucius was standing. She fumbled with her camisole for a moment and then raised her arms above her head and dropped the silky fabric over her.

She turned and stepped toward him. Lucius reached out and ran his hands from her shoulders down her bare arms, sending tiny jolts of electricity through her entire body. He brought his hands back to her shoulders and she smiled up at him. He cupped her face in his hand and let his fingers play in the soft tendrils of her hair. She let her eyes close and felt his thumb brush over her eyelid.

Before her eyes could open his lips were on hers. The kiss was tender, warm and sweet. He was not at all insistent. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled herself as close to him as she could. She kissed him more urgently and for a moment his mouth matched her intensity. But suddenly he pulled away. He backed up a few steps and seated himself on the end of her bed. "Lucius?" she whispered. This could not be happening. He couldn't really be turning her down. Could he? Lucius looked over at her with a half smile.

"There are limits to a man's control," he explained to her. He held out both of his hands to her and she gladly took them, closing the distance between the two of them again. "I cannot allow myself to think about what you are making it very difficult not to think about."

"I'm thinking about it," she confessed. She figured she'd gone so far as to have him in her bedroom while she changed into a rather revealing pair of silk pajamas, she might as well come out and admit what he was almost certainly aware was on her mind. She'd done everything she could think of to seduce him. More than anything she wanted to spend the night with him, and she had no tools at her disposal other than to be blunt to let him know that.

"Cissa," he said to her, pulling her closer and wrapping his hands around her waist. "I've done a lot of things in my life that I'm not proud of," he told her, "but this…" He paused and made sure she was looking him in the eye. "This… with you… this I intend to do the right way. I'll have you for my own soon enough, but until then I intend to keep your virtue intact." Narcissa frowned at him. It was a beautiful sentiment, but she still felt the tiniest bit disappointed in herself. She ran her fingers once through his hair and then wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I won't try this again," she promised him.

"Don't say that," he teased. "I wish to have a thorough knowledge of all of your silk pajamas."

"You're terrible," she heckled back.

"You don't know the half of it," he replied, his tone was suddenly much more serious. She wondered if she'd just insulted him without intending to.

"Stay with me until I fall asleep?" she implored him. He reached down and pulled her into his lap.

"That I will do," he assured her, planting a tiny kiss on the top of her head. "Now let's get you into bed."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Dedicated to all of you who enjoyed my first kiss; here was my first attempt at DE violence and failed seduction. Please let me know what you thought. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**FEBRUARY 1975**

"It's so strange; I've been here before but it's a whole new experience today."

"It's your house now." Lucius led Narcissa through the massive wooden front door of Malfoy manor and into the grand and cavernous entrance hall.

"Not quite yet," she corrected him. Lucius tilted his head to the side.

"Not officially for another six weeks," he allowed. "But my father has already vacated the premises, so it's all ours."

"Where'd your father go?" she asked as she surveyed the walls of the hall. There were portraits of long dead Malfoys hung all across her view and there were exquisite Gobelin tapestries hung along the open hallway of the second floor.

"The house in London," Lucius answered her. "That's why we bought it, you know? My father had given me the ring and he knew that I would be bringing you here shortly. He wanted to be somewhere smaller and easier to maintain anyway."

"So this house is really all yours now?"

"It's all ours," he corrected her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"That's lovely," she said to him. "So what do you want to show me first?"

"What do you want to see?" he asked. "You've seen the drawing room, and the formal dining room, and the ground floor parlor and the statuary hall, which I must say I forget sometimes is even there because it's an absolutely useless waste of space but everything in it is enchanted so as to never be moved. You don't need to see the kitchen or the servant's quarters." He took her hand and led her straight ahead toward the grand staircase. "Let's start up the stairs." Narcissa nodded. He hurried her up the grand staircase and on to the landing. She turned around and looked over her shoulder briefly. "You can look," he allowed, turning around as well.

"It's palatial," she commented.

"It's all yours," he reminded her. She grinned widely and turned to look at him. He pointed to his right.

"Down there," he indicated, "is the large library, which I will leave you to later in the day." Narcissa snickered at him. She knew that he had a point, though. If that library was anywhere near the scope she'd imagined she'd likely be in there for days on end. "The door just there," he added, pointing to an open doorway between them and the double doors to the library, "is to the formal living room. I believe that's where you met my father at the Christmas Party?"

"Yes," Narcissa confirmed. "You thought he'd be in the ballroom, but he was down here. This is the room in which I am to expect to find my husband and his male friends enjoying brandy and cigars and topical conversations?"

"Only my closest friends," he assured her.

"Mm," she mused, walking past him toward the living room.

"As you know, those stairs lead directly to the fourth floor. That's the public staircase to the ballroom."

"Yes," Narcissa answered again. "And the guest rooms are on that hall," she recalled, pointing down to her left.

"You remember well," he congratulated her. "Come this way." He led her down the corridor that she had indicated housed the guest rooms. He stopped at the final door on the right hand side and pushed it open. The room he led her into was smallish for Malfoy manor, and decidedly masculine in its trimmings. There was a fireplace on the wall to her left that was surrounded by bookshelves containing volumes that looked old and interesting. There were two wing back chairs facing the fireplace with a spindly little table separating them. Directly in front of her was a large window before which sat an imposing desk and leather chair, and next to that on her right was a lovely set of French doors leading to a small balcony. "This is the private library," he told her. Narcissa nodded and took a few tentative steps into the room.

"Am I to presume that you mean this is _your_ private library and that I may expect to find the door locked with some regularity?" she asked him. Lucius shook his head.

"You seem to forget, my dear, that this house is enchanted," he reminded her. "Once we're wed not a lock in this house will work against you. You'll be able to open any door whether it's been locked or not."

"Oh, I like that," she declared.

"Not that I'd ever lock you out of a room with books in it," he joked. "And I think we'll keep a few of your banned volumes in here as well. The purpose of this room is to keep our business to ourselves. There are some secrets to this room as well," he shared with her.

"Secrets?" Narcissa was intrigued. She wandered toward the fireplace as he answered her.

"Yes, there are a few secrets in this room," he informed her. "First, do you see the clock on the mantle?" Narcissa turned and looked at the mantelpiece. Atop it sat a clock with a row of bells of ascending size on either side of it and one larger bell on top of it. She nodded back at him. "That is an alarm clock," he explained to her. "The bells go off for different reasons. If we're late for an appointment or if we've overslept the little ones at the bottom will jingle to remind us. The third from the bottom on both sides will ring if we've an uninvited guest within the gates. But the bells on the top are the ones that you've the most need to remember." He moved closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "The top bell will ring if I am ever out of this house and injured. All but the top will ring if I am captured by an enemy, and all of them will ring at once if I am killed." Narcissa shuddered.

"Lucius don't talk like that," she insisted.

"You need to hear this," he challenged. "If that top bell rings, whether the rest of them do or not, you are to wait in this room for someone to come for you." Narcissa frowned and nodded.

"Why this room?" she asked. "Why in here?" Lucius turned his body and regarded the balcony beyond the French doors.

"That's the other secret," he shared with her. "There's a spot on that balcony to and from whence it is possible to Apparate. Only a select few people know where it is, and if something happens to me someone will come for you through that portal. Do you understand?" She nodded in response. "Good," he affirmed. He reached for her hand, which she gladly gave, and pulled her toward and then through the door back into the hallway. They made it about halfway back to the grand staircase when Lucius reached over and pulled aside a velvet curtain that hung over an archway. "This way," he instructed her as he started through the opening.

Narcissa found herself on a curved staircase and being led quickly up it. The two of them reached the top and Lucius led her down the corridor to their left. There were only doors on one side of the hall and he sucked them both through the first one they came to. They were in a large room, with three tall windows facing the back garden, each of them draped in heavy blue velvet. "This is our private sitting room," he told her. "No one comes in or out of here without one of us, and even then it should be a rare occasion that anyone else is here at all." He led her to the far left hand wall and pointed out a pair of doors. "Linen closet," he referred to the door to the left, "and master bath," he referred to the door on the right. He opened the right hand door and led her through it.

The master bathroom was lovely. The walls were covered with gleaming sheets of black marble and the bathtub looked large enough to throw a party in. He didn't let her dawdle in the bathroom long though, he pulled her through a door just opposite the one they'd just come in. She felt her eyes get wider as she looked around the exquisite master bedroom.

"Closets," Lucius pointed out, referring to a pair of double doors behind them and to the left. There was a Chippendale fainting couch in front of the double doors with a marble topped table next to it. Directly to their right were an oversized fireplace and a pair of velvet upholstered Louis XV chairs. "Terrace," he referred to a set of French doors on the far wall past the fireplace.

"This is…" She was at a loss for words.

"You can change anything you'd like," he told her. "I'm not attached to the décor. I've already ordered new linens; I've noticed you prefer silk sheets." Narcissa allowed herself a tiny giggle at that as she wandered farther toward the massive four poster bed against the opposite wall.

"It's perfect," she decried, flopping herself backward onto the bed. "I could spend the rest of my life in this room." He chuckled as he crossed to sit on the bed beside her. He leaned over to face her with his head propped on his hand.

"That would be the idea," he told her. "That would be precisely the idea."

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I can't wait for the next part. I'm so excited, but it's likely to be a long chapter... it might take a while. Please leave reviews in the mean time to keep me motivated (I know- I'm shameless). Thanks to all of you who've been reading and reviewing regularly- you've made me enjoy this process all the more, even with bronchitis. -MQ


	13. Chapter 13

**MARCH 21, 1975**

He hadn't come back. It was three thirty in the morning and he hadn't come back yet. She knew where he was. She knew what he was doing. Or rather; she knew who he was with and whose bidding he was up to doing. She wasn't thick enough not to have noticed a full third of the people in the room staring at or grasping their left forearm right about the time that Bella had scooted her off to bed. She'd gone without argument. After all, she was getting married at sunup and she would likely benefit from a few hours of sleep. And she did respect that there was a mission to be accomplished, even if it did cut into her pre-wedding festivities. She figured it to be in her best interest to go up to her room and wait for Lucius to come tell her good night and then get a few peaceful hours sleep before morning. But then he hadn't come to say good night. It pained her that he'd run out after the Dark Lord's orders mere hours before they were to be married and he hadn't even bothered to say goodbye to her.

And he still wasn't back. The alarm hadn't sounded, so at least she could count on the fact that he wasn't injured. It was but a small comfort, however, as she knew that whatever the Dark Lord had Lucius doing could last for any number of hours and her wedding was fast approaching.

It had been her father's idea for them to marry at dawn on the day of the vernal equinox. Narcissa had relished the idea of a wedding at sunrise, and the east garden of Malfoy manor made for a spectacular setting for such an occasion. Dozens of hired hands and all of the household servants had been up all night readying the seats and the flowers, festooning the statuary with ribbons and tulle, and readying the ballroom for the reception to followS. Narcissa watched out the window of the sitting room adjacent to her bedchamber as the house-elf called Dobby, who'd only come to the manor this morning as part of her dowry, helped another elf carry a bundle of flowers as a pair of human decorators placed vases all about the seating area.

She shook her head and wondered how long she should wait before she considered stalling them. It would seem more proper for the wedding to appear to have been delayed due to the incompetence of the staff than by the absence of the bridegroom. Narcissa paced back and forth in front of the three enormous windows, looking alternately between the goings on in the garden and the open door to the room where Lucius should be sleeping.

Since they'd come to Malfoy manor to properly prepare for their impending nuptials, Lucius had been sleeping in the tiny 'nurse's room' which communicated with the sitting room on the opposite side from the master bedroom. But tonight he hadn't been through its door. She'd entertained the notion of waiting in the library where she knew he would be Apparating home to, but she feared who else might be coming back along with him and she dared not make the scene she knew was possibly going to occur in front of company.

She knew it immediately when he finally did come in. It was quarter past four according to the clock on the mantle, and the fire had long since gone out. She had stopped her pacing and was staring straight out the window and into the garden. Lucius had been quiet enough in tiptoeing through the door, but in the silence and the stillness of the pre dawn hours he was easy enough to hear. She wasn't sure when she'd started crying, but she was absolutely sure that she wasn't ready to let him see her tears. "Did you have a nice night?" she managed to ask without much quaver in her voice.

"Cissa, I…"

"I was beginning to fear that you might not be coming back." He strode intently toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. She still didn't turn to face him. "I'd begun rehearsing what I was to tell the guests."

"Cissa, you know that I…"

"No," she challenged, "I really don't." She inhaled a ragged breath. Lucius walked around next to her and spun her shoulders until she was facing him. He looked like hell. His hair was tousled beyond how she'd ever seen it before and his chest was heaving as though he hadn't been able to catch his breath for some time. "Might you care to share with me where you've been all night?" she quizzed.

"No," he answered succinctly. She shook her head and turned her back to him.

"Of course not," she confirmed. Narcissa felt fresh tears spilling onto her cheeks and she couldn't even be bothered to wipe them away.

"Cissa, please," he implored her. She buried her face in her hands.

"Say what you will, Lucius," she allowed, dropping her arms back to her sides. He moved behind her slowly and picked up her hand.

"I can't tell you where I've been," he stated. "I won't." He tugged on her hand to get her to face him, but instead of turning to him, she walked the few steps to the nearest chair and seated herself in it. "The things that we do, Narcissa, the things that I have done in the service of the Dark Lord…" He went to where she was sitting and knelt on the rug before her. "I want to protect you from that," he explained. "I want to keep you safe from everything horrible and complicated that I may involve myself in."

"But that's not what I want, Lucius," she explained. "I do not need to be sheltered and coddled and kept in the dark about things. I want to know, Lucius; I want to know you, I want to know what you're doing when you're gone from me until all hours of the night."

"I can't do that," he told her. "I can't bring you in to this. It's too ugly and too dangerous. And I _want_ to shelter you, and coddle you, and spoil you and pet you. I want to be the best husband I can be to you. I can give you so much. All I want is to keep what you've given me already."

"What I've given you? Lucius, I don't understand you." She looked down at his woebegone face and saw tears beginning to well up in his eyes to match her own.

"Narcissa…" He took both of her hands in his and kissed each one before he continued. "I need to know that for the rest of my life when I look in your eyes that there is no chance that I'll see fear… or contempt. I need to know that you'll never shy away from me out of disgust over things that I've done. And I need to know that you'll always be safe; that none of this ugliness ever touches you." He closed his eyes and she saw a tear fall from his eye as he continued; "I love you, Narcissa. I want to take care of you… I need you to take care of me."

Narcissa paused for a moment to take in what she'd just heard. He'd said he loved her. And she completely trusted him. If she'd ever any doubts about him or about marrying him, they were gone in that instant. She reached down and put her hands on either side of his face. Lucius tilted his face up to look her in the eye. His face was becoming as tear stained as her own. "I can do that," she whispered. She slid from the chair and knelt on the floor facing him, her hands not budging from the sides of his face. "It would be my privilege to do just that." She leaned forward and kissed him, as sweetly and as tenderly as she'd ever imagined she could. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tighter than she ever remembered having been held. She returned his embrace and when they broke the kiss, she buried her face in his neck. His hands combed through her flaxen tresses as she stroked his back to soothe the quiet sobs she could feel in his chest. After a few moments time, she pulled away slightly and looked him in the eye. "You should try to get some rest," she encouraged, "you've got an appointment in a couple of hours." Lucius smiled at her.

"So I have," he confirmed. He stood up and then helped her to her feet. "Good night, my love," he bade her, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. Narcissa sighed.

"To you as well," she said. He turned and went toward the room where he was to spend his last night's sleep as a single man. She watched as he went and smiled at him when he turned to close the door. Once the door was shut behind him, she returned quietly to her own room.

He had told her he loved her. And that was enough to lull her into a comfortable slumber for as long as the morning's schedule would allow.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Narcissa awoke to the feeling of an arm around her waist and several tiny kisses on the back of her next. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled with a sigh. "Good morning," she whispered. Lucius held her a little tighter and buried his face in her hair.

"Let's get married," he suggested. Narcissa stretched her legs underneath her and agreed.

"Sounds like a splendid idea." She yawned and put her hand on his arm. "But you know you're not supposed to see me before the ceremony."

"My eyes are closed," he defended.

"As much as that is well by me, Bella will be up here any minute and if she catches you, she's liable to hex them shut permanently." She stretched her arms above her head and then scooted herself closer to him.

"Come any closer and I'll never leave," he warned. Narcissa smiled into her pillow.

"That's very tempting," she replied. "Perhaps we could just skip the ceremony and stay here all day?"

"Too tempting," he answered. Lucius rolled out of the bed and snatched the covers off of her. "But if I'm to be awake and preened for the occasion, so are you." Narcissa sat up in the bed and threw a pillow at him, which he easily dodged.

"Go then," she sneered, obviously in jest, "and leave me in peace." Lucius smirked at her and turned to leave. "I'll see you when the sun rises," she called.

"Until then," he answered back as he stepped through the door leading through the master bath into the sitting room. Narcissa barely had time to flop back down onto the bed when she heard a familiar voice bellowing in her direction.

"If Lucius was in here with you, I swear I'll curse him until his eyes change color!"

"Good morning, Bella," Narcissa groaned, pulling herself finally out of bed and into a standing position.

"Well, was he in here?" Bella's voice sounded frenzied and shrill.

"He came to wake me up," Narcissa defended, "He kept his eyes closed."

"Well," Bella crossed her arms over her chest, "as the lone defender of your virtue I…"

"You're a fine one to talk about that," Narcissa interrupted.

"Says who?" Bella spat back.

"Says the person you used to pay to stand guard at the top of the stairs to the dormitories so that you and whomever you were shagging that week could have a few moments of privacy."

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that." Bella grimaced.

"Well I certainly haven't," Narcissa declared. "So if you're here to cast stones over the fact that the man I intend to marry within the day came into my room…"

"Cissy…"

"It's not as though virginity is particularly prized by me or anyone I know," Narcissa contended, crossing to her vanity to brush her hair. "It's just that, by the time I really was interested in exploring that particular activity I was already deeply in the thrall of Lucius Malfoy. I couldn't imagine the first time being with anyone else when every fantasy I had was about him."

"That's so sweet," Bella cooed half-mocking her.

"Don't be mean about it, Bella," Narcissa implored as she began fastening pins in her hair. "This is really more the kind of thing I would have talked to An' about, but…."

"Don't you dare mention that name in my presence, Narcissa Black," Bella's voice was suddenly full of venom and cruelty.

"I'm sorry." Narcissa recoiled, "I…"

"That name is not to be spoken," Bella insisted. Narcissa felt herself beginning to tear up.

"Alright, Bella," she agreed, turning fully to face the mirror and continuing with her hairstyle.

"Oh, Cissy, don't cry," Bella implored, sitting herself on the stool next to her sister. "I didn't mean to upset you." Narcissa nodded. She pulled open a drawer in the vanity and produced a jade box, which she opened to reveal dozens of white and black pearls.

"Nothing could upset me today, Bella," Narcissa told her sister, "not really." Bella poked her fingers through the pearls in the box on the vanity.

"Cissy, these are beautiful," she proclaimed.

"Look in that box," Narcissa instructed, pointing to a large velvet box on the corner of the vanity. Bella opened the lid and stared wide-eyed at the contents of the box. There was a necklace, a bracelet, a pair of earrings, and a brooch; all of them an exquisite conglomerate of diamonds and pearls, both black and white. "You are to wear the brooch," Narcissa told her. "Lucius insists."

"These are amazing," Bella declared. Narcissa nodded.

"They're a wedding present from Lucius," she told her sister. "He picked every gem by hand. The diamonds came from Antwerp and all of the pearls he brought over from Beijing. I've never owned anything so lovely."

"He's good to you," Bella observed, her voice almost a question. Narcissa nodded as she began fastening the pearls from the jade box into her hair.

"He told me he loves me," Narcissa confessed. "This morning when he got home…."

"You're going to be very happy, little Cissy," Bella assured her. She wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," a calm and pleasant voice called to them from the door.

"No, mother," Narcissa answered, turning to face the new arrival. "Please, come in." Druella Black crossed to the vanity and stood behind her two daughters, looking at them in the mirror.

"You aren't ready, Narcissa?" her mother asked. "I've been sent to hurry you along, the sun will start up sooner than you'd guess."

"I'll be on time, mother, I assure you." Druella bent down and placed a kiss on top if her daughter's blonde head.

"The guests are arriving," she told her daughters.

"I won't be late," Narcissa repeated, producing a box of cosmetic implements from the drawer in front of her.

"Have you eaten anything?" her mother asked. Narcissa shook her head as she powdered her cheeks. "You must have something in your stomach, dear," she insisted.

"Mother's right, Cissy," Bellatrix agreed, "if I hadn't eaten before walking down the aisle, I'd have fainted dead away."

"You got married in Capri, at two in the afternoon, and in the middle of the summer," Narcissa reminded her sister as she dabbed rouge on her cheeks. "Of course you nearly fainted, we all did."

"What's the name of that blasted kitchen elf?" their mother asked.

"There are two," Narcissa answered her. "They are Kibbitt and Lollie, and you may call either of them."

"How many house-elves does Malfoy have?" Druella asked, her face almost a scowl.

"With Dobby, there are five; the two in the kitchen, a chambermaid, and a butler of sorts- who also handles the garden chores and now Dobby will be Lucius' personal valet."

"A bit excessive, don't you think?" Druella sneered.

"It's a large house, mother," Narcissa defended, "and Abraxas Malfoy lived alone here for many years. I suppose he needed the help." Her mother shrugged.

"Kibbitt!" she elder woman bellowed, "Lollie!" A loud 'crack' and two house-elves with flowers behind their ears for the occasion appeared before the ladies, one with a tray of fruits and cheeses and the other carrying a basket of pastries and a pot of tea.

"Kibbitt knew that missus-to-be would be wanting some breakfast," the rounder of the two elves said as she padded across to the table near the fireplace and set down the tray.

"And Lollie brought tea and cakes!" the other elf pointed out as she followed the first to arrange the food and drink.

"I thank you both," Narcissa told them. "My mother was calling you for just that reason."

"Kibbitt and Lollie are happy to have a lady to serve again," Kibbitt told Narcissa. "Kibbitt and Lollie gladly bring tea and breakfast to our missus-to-be." Narcissa smiled.

"That will be all Kibbitt, Lollie, thank you."

"You are welcome," the two said in tandem before they disappeared with another 'crack'.

"Bellatrix, get your sister a muffin," their mother instructed. Bella did as she was told and crossed to the table where the house-elves had left the food and drink. Narcissa examined herself in the mirror and, satisfied at her appearance, stood from the vanity to face her mother.

"I'm not hungry," Narcissa contended. She walked in the opposite direction from the food and into her closet near the door to the hallway.

"You have to eat something," her mother insisted again.

"I'll eat at the reception," Narcissa called back from inside the over sized closet. "They've been cooking for two days for this party and I refuse to miss a bite of my own wedding feast because you've forced a muffin down my gullet on the way to the altar."

"Just a bite of something, Cissy," her mother pleaded. "Please, a few grapes, a slice of cheese, something to ease your poor mother's mind?"

"It's not working," Narcissa sang. "You're a master, mother, really you are, but I've just woken up, and I'm not at all hungry." She poked her head out of the closet. "I'll have a cup of tea if it pleases you," she conceded. Druella smiled at her small victory and crossed to the table to prepare her daughter a cup of tea. Bellatrix had made herself comfortable on one of the velvet chairs and was munching away at a bunch of grapes.

Moments later, Narcissa emerged from the closet, dressed in her wedding gown. The dress was floor length, with a train, an empire waist, and yards upon yards of hand tied lace. The sleeves buttoned at the wrist and then flared out again and the bodice was peppered with pearls and crystals. Bellatrix leapt from her chair and stepped toward her sister. "Cissy!" Bella exhorted.

"You like it?" Narcissa asked.

"It's…" Bella seemed at a loss for words. Narcissa nodded.

"I've stared for at least an hour at it every day since Duchess Weft's delivered it here." She told the other two.

"It's perfect, Cissy," her mother said, crossing to embrace Narcissa.

"Bella, get my jewelry, please?" Narcissa asked. Bellatrix darted to the vanity and returned with the box of pearl and diamond jewelry. Narcissa fastened the earrings in here ears and clasped her bracelet to her wrist as Bella put the necklace on her. Narcissa then took the brooch from the box and pinned it to her sister's dress.

"You look all grown up, little Cissy," Bella told her, taking her arm and leading her to her cup of tea. Their mother drew her wand and pointed it at Narcissa.

"_Impervious!_" she called. A tiny flicker of light passed between the wand and Narcissa.

"Thank you, mother, I hadn't thought of that." Narcissa thought her mother rather clever for having enchanted her gown against spills and other perils.

"The dew is forming on the grass," Druella observed. "You'd ruin the hem." Narcissa turned and kissed her mother on the cheek.

"Will I ever be able to care for my own family as you have for us?" she asked her mother.

"You will do well, Cissy," her mother assured her. Narcissa hugged her mother briefly and then tiptoed to the French doors on the far side of the room from the closet. She peeked through the steel-colored velvet drapes at the crowds of people being seated in the garden. She shook her head when she realized that the balcony railing was blocking her ability to see anything terribly interesting. Narcissa picked up her skirts and scurried through the door to the master bathroom and out the other side into the sitting room. She went to the easternmost window of the sitting room and peeked out of it. She knew she'd have a good view from right there as she'd watched all night from just that spot as things were prepared.

"Cissy!" Bella called as she chased after her. "Do you want Lucius to see you standing there? It's bad luck!"

"There is no such thing as luck, Bellatrix," Druella corrected her eldest. "But it is bad form, Narcissa," she added. Cissy turned and scowled at her mother, but before she could fire off any rebuttal, Cygnus Black poked his head in the door.

"Look at my baby girl," he exclaimed with a smile as he came in to the room. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you, father," she answered him. Narcissa closed the distance between herself and her father and kissed his cheek.

"Is it time?" Druella asked her husband. Cygnus nodded.

"It is that," he answered. He held out his arm to his daughter. "Are you ready Cissy?" Narcissa smiled at her father and nodded.

They made their way down the small staircase and then the massive grand staircase into the entrance hall. Narcissa could hear harp music coming from the garden as her father escorted her past the row of sniffling house-elves and to the rear veranda. The statuary had been moved from the east garden so that it lined her path to the ceremony site, thereby obscuring any view of her from the assembled guests. Narcissa thought this was silly and maddening, as she was enamored with the way she looked in this magnificent dress and hated the idea that no one could see her.

She was able to peek through the gaps left by the shapes of the statues at the aisle and the canopy of flowers under which she was to be married. Elder Ogden of Wizengmot stood beneath a grand cascade of flowers and ivy with Lucius to his left, looking fidgety and anxious. Next to Lucius was an old friend of his that Narcissa had scarcely bothered to know; a young man named Severus who was in her cousin Sirius' year at Hogwarts, and next to him was Rodolphus Lestrange. Behind the canopy was arranged a forty-five member symphony orchestra; sitting at the ready with the conductor's baton in the air. Rows and rows of people sat along the flower strewn aisle that led to the front and enchanted candles floated about among the guests and above the canopy. It was perfect.

Narcissa heard the orchestra begin the strains of a melody she didn't recognize, but loved immediately. Her sister started down the aisle with her mother. Cygnus Black turned to his daughter and kissed the top of her head. "You ready?" he whispered. A nod from Narcissa, and they started down the aisle.

The trip from the statues to the canopy was a blur. All that Narcissa could see or think about was the smile on Lucius' face as she walked toward him. She heard something exchanged between her father and the Elder, and she remembered being shown her wand on a nearby pedestall. How had they gotten that? There was a prayer or something, some words that she barely heard as she wondered a little longer who had swiped her wand to bring it here. And when had they swiped his wand? Lucius had his wand in his own custody until a few hours ago… maybe Dobby had gotten it.

She felt Lucius squeeze her hand. She looked up into his dreamy gray eyes and realized it must be time for the vows. She took a deep breath and faced the Elder, who nodded to her, indicating that she was correct. She kicked herself mentally for having not been paying attention, but her annoyance at herself passed quickly enough when she saw on Lucius' face that he knew what was going on. She grinned at him and began to speak.

"I pledge myself to you," she said, "in triumph and in tragedy; as victors or vanquished; in fear or in feasting. By the power of fire: I devote myself to you as long as the sun which rises over our union shines about the earth. By the power of water: I devote myself to you as long as the seas remain. By the power of air: I devote myself to you as long as I am able to draw breath. And by the power of Earth: I devote myself to you until I return from whence I came; ashes to ashes and dust to dust." She blinked back tears as she listened to Lucius echo the words she had just said. Elder Ogden picked both of their wands up off of the pillar where they had been sitting and handed each of them the wand of the other, which they then exchanged in an age old representation of each lending power to the other. He instructed them to cross their wands and slipped the wedding rings onto the ends once they had done so. Narcissa remembered that she had meant to look up the Latin verses that were being recited over the rings, but she hadn't- and at the moment, her brain was too cloudy to translate as the Elder spoke.

Lucius then slid her ring from his wand and placed it on her hand. She did the same with his ring. With their wands still crossed, and the tip of the Elder's wand resting just at the point where the two intersected they recited together, "By the power of my wand and that which is inherent in myself I pledge to you my devotion, protection, strength and fidelity. My soul I bind to you; two as one, in lasting covenant; forever."

She couldn't believe that he'd said 'forever'. She had decided whilst he knelt before her last night to change 'as long as I am alive' to 'forever', but she hadn't known he had intended to do the same. Changing the words changed the vow. They had now bound themselves one to the other, for eternity, for longer than their bodies were on the earth, for as long as their souls dwelt in the ether.

Narcissa listened as the Elder shared another blessing and watched out of the corner of her eye as a silvery mist rose from the point where their two wands met and wound its way around their hands. The focus of her gaze was on Lucius, though. He was staring intently at the ring he'd just put on her finger and she wondered a little if he was as surprised by 'forever' as she had been.

"And by the power vested in me as an Elder of the Wizengmot and by the legal authority of the British Ministry of Magic; I now pronounce you man and wife." Narcissa's breath caught in her throat. She heard the Elder say something about, "kiss the bride," and she didn't need to hear any more. She tilted her head toward her new husband and kissed him sweetly as the strains of the symphony swelled powerfully behind them. The assembled guests applauded as they broke the kiss and Lucius led her quickly back down the aisle toward the statuary.

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_This was a chore and a joy to write. I will be a bride myself in March, and it was quite an experience for me to put myself into the head of another bride as the hour of her wedding approaches. I think I have wound up with an interesting and surprisingly down to earth version of a WW wedding. Please let me know what you thought- the reception cometh, as does Voldemort :)_

_-MQ_

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	14. Chapter 14

**MARCH 22, 1975**

"You're not even a little bit tired?" Lucius whirled his bride around the dance floor to the rhythm of a Laendler that was just punchier than a Viennese.

"Not even a little bit," Narcissa answered him with a smile. She wasn't. She knew that she had every right to be completely exhausted, but she was as wide awake as she could imagine being. Sure, she'd only slept an hour or so last night; and sure, she'd been dancing and celebrating since the sun came up. So what if it was after midnight?

Narcissa knew that she only had one occasion in her life on which she got to be a bride, and she intended to take full advantage of the day of celebrating. There were still more than a hundred people in the ballroom of Malfoy manor and she certainly wasn't going to stop dancing until she had to. "Don't you think you should get to bed soon?" he asked her. Well, that was a different question entirely. Narcissa, finally figuring out what he'd been getting at with all of his insisting that she must be sleepy, bit her lip and winked at him. She glanced around the room to make sure that at least a few people were watching and then she made quite a production of yawning.

"I suppose that would be the prudent thing to do," she simpered. "Let's say our goodnights and retire for the evening." She was pleased that Lucius hadn't actually been tired, but rather hinting to her of something carnal that had been stewing in his mind. She had to admit that she'd entertained the notion of steeling away for an hour and then rejoining the party more than once during the course of the afternoon. They quickly made the rounds of the remaining guests and slipped quietly into the vestibule and toward the stairs.

He held on to her hand as they slowly descended the sweeping marble staircase. They'd barely made it on to the mezzanine when Lucius stopped in his tracks and balled his hands into fists. She shook her head and looked up at him in disbelief. She knew what was happening immediately. "Go quickly and come back," she sighed, her breath heavy in her chest. She knew this would happen some time, although she hadn't expected to relinquish her husband's presence to the behest of the Dark Lord on their wedding night.

He laced his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he assured her. She could tell by the tone of his voice that he was loathe to answer the call at such a moment, but she knew in her heart that he had no real choice in the matter. She watched as he let go of her and sped down the hall toward the Apparition point on the library terrace.

Narcissa leaned on the banister railing of the mezzanine and buried her face in her hands. She was suddenly very tired. Pulling her skirts up to nearly her knees, she trudged down the hall and up the stairs to the private level of the house. Her feet felt heavier as she reached the top of the staircase and she was finding it difficult to hold her head up by the time she skulked through her bedroom door. She walked intently toward the bed, shedding garments as she went. First one shoe, then the other, her dress, her slip, her garter belt and stockings left a trail of white on the dark rugs from the door to the edge of the bed. She flopped herself down onto the bed in her knickers and camisole, with her wedding jewelry still gleaming on her neck and wrist and in her ears and hair. She shut her eyes, assured in herself that waiting for Lucius to return would be easier accomplished in her sleep.

She couldn't have been lying there for more than a moment when Lucius burst through the door. He ran to her, urgently, as though something were terribly wrong. She sat up on the edge of the bed and met his eyes. "What is it?" she managed to whisper, her brain still lagging from her half-sleep.

"Come with me," he insisted. Narcissa shook her head.

"I'm not dressed," she pointed out. Lucius shook his head.

"Put anything on," he told her, "but quickly." He was being awfully mysterious, and she wasn't sure that she was quite okay with his ordering her about so. But she'd learned a while ago that some things where Lucius was concerned needed to be taken on faith. So she leapt from the bed and darted into her closet. Quickly, she snagged simple black robes and tossed the garment over her head. As she tied the sash, she stepped in to a nearby pair of flat heeled shoes and then came back in to the bedroom. Lucius was waiting for her just outside the door to the closet and he immediately took her hand. He led her out of the bedroom, through the corridor, down the stairs and along the hallway and into the door to the private library. He hadn't said anything to her as they came into the library and as he brought her out on to the balcony.

"Where are we going?" she asked him. She hadn't time for an answer. Before she could even take another breath she felt the nauseating and familiar sensation of being folded in half laterally and shoved through a mail slot by a vacuum cleaner.

When Narcissa had a chance to catch her breath, she found herself someplace completely unfamiliar. There were trees on three sides of her, and just in front there stood what appeared to be the ruins of a cottage or a shack. The grass was overgrown but looked in places as though it were trampled upon with some regularity. Smoke rose slowly from the remnants of a small pyre just a few feet from where she stood and she watched as it wafted up and spiraled through the air as though it had a regular pattern.

"Well done, Lucius," a cold and snake-like voice sounded from somewhere in the dark. "Your swift return pleases me." Narcissa shuddered. "And I see that you have done as I asked of you," the voice spoke again.

"My Lord," Lucius addressed to the night air. "I have complied with your wishes." Narcissa's eyes grew wide and she turned to face her husband. So this was what he had been up to; he had brought her to meet with Lord Voldemort. She wasn't so sure how she felt about that fact. She had half a mind to snatch her hand back from his grasp and Apparate herself right back home; but the other half of her wanted to leap into his arms and hide her face from the frightening voice that seemed to be coming from all directions. As it was she stood stock still and set her jaw.

Instantly, in a cloud of black smoke, before her appeared a figure. He was tall and willowy; his back robes hung from his body as though they were merely strips of gossamer held on his body by force of magic alone. He was ghastly pale. His eyes looked hollow and dark and as he reached his hand out to her she couldn't help but compare his gangly fingers to those of a skeleton.

"Come in to the moonlight, Narcissa Malfoy," the frightening wizard instructed her. It was the first time anyone had ever called her that. She took a tentative step toward him, dropping Lucius' hand in the process.

"Lord Voldemort, I presume," she greeted him with as even a tone as she could muster.

"Very good, Mrs. Malfoy," he answered her, his voice no less unsettling than it had been when it was disembodied. He came closer to where she stood, his hand ever outstretched in her direction. His index finger came to rest on the apex of her forehead and she had to gasp for breath as the deathly cold of his fingers came into contact with her skin. Voldemort looked at her face f or a moment and then raised his head to look over her shoulder. "You have done well, Lucius," he decried. "Her blood is pure, as is her body, and her dear Black heart."

"I am honored that you find me pleasing m'lord," Narcissa said to him. She was standing as still as she could while Voldemort walked slowly in a circle around her. She knew that she was trembling and tried her best to steady herself.

"My dear Mrs. Malfoy," Voldemort hissed as he came around to her face her again. "What is your opinion of our noble mission?" Was he actually asking her opinion? Narcissa took but the smallest instant to decide what to say back.

"There are those among my family and friends who would see you the next Minister of Magic," she told him, her voice so even and clear that she surprised herself by it. "But," she added, a bit more confident in her ability to speak, "if I have gauged m'lord correctly, I doubt you would take the job were it to be handed you. It seems as though the type of conquest you seek cannot be properly attained through the means of bureaucracy. But rather, it must be won by tearing down the bureaucracy and building the world up again in its proper form." She nodded her head and averted her eyes. Narcissa had a pretty god feeling that Lord Voldemort was either going to be very pleased or very angered by what she'd just said, and she hoped for Lucius' sake as well as her own that it would be the former.

"You have an astute understanding of what goes on here, Mrs. Malfoy," Voldemort said back to her. "And yet you choose not to join us?" She'd been afraid that might be coming.

"M'lord, if you please," she began. "I've no taste for the tearing down," she explained. "I haven't the stomach to accomplish the necessary tasks. But I assure you: the vows I made this morning were not only to this man," she turned to look a smiling Lucius in the eye for a moment before continuing, "but to all he holds dear. Although this noble cause may not be served by my ready wand, you will have my support, and my loyalty, as well as that of all of my progeny. I swear it." She looked up again, into Voldemort's eyes to try and determine his reaction to what she'd just said. She'd meant it truly, and she could only hope it was enough to satisfy him. But Voldemort's eyes looked back at her with nothing in them at all. His eyes were cold and hollow, as though he were missing a part of his soul.

He reached out and grasped her left arm, turning it so that the soft fleshy underside was exposed. Was he going to mark her? She heard Lucius gasp behind her and just then felt the tip of Voldemort's wand on her arm. It burned like acid, and sent prickly hot pains through her body. She nearly fell to her knees from the pain, but resolved to stay on her feet if it killed her.

Before she even had a chance to think, the pain had ceased. Voldemort stepped back from her and smiled. His smile seemed more frightening to her than any other expression he'd made, his eyes were still hollow and cold and just his mouth turned up at the corners. "You have done well, Lucius," Voldemort repeated as he backed away a bit farther from them. "I have marked but your spirit, Narcissa Malfoy," he addressed to her. "You are welcome in my circle."

And then he was gone. Without so much as the telltale 'pop' of Apparition, he was nowhere to be seen. Narcissa flexed her left hand in and out of a fist as she stood still trying to compose herself. She felt altered, like she was somewhere between drunk and asleep and immortal. She reached her right hand out behind her and Lucius was immediately at her side. She leaned into him slightly and she felt him kiss the top of her head, which was still spangled with the pearls she'd fastened there nearly twenty hours ago. "Take me home now," she whispered. Lucius nodded.

The next thing she knew they were back on the terrace of the second floor library. Narcissa found it odd that she had barely noticed their Apparition, and did not feel even the slightest tinge ill from it. She leaned into her husband, burying her exhausted face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her there for what might have been hours, rocking her slowly as she listened to the comforting sound of his breathing.

"Come with me," he whispered in to her ear as he swept her up into his arms and carried her through the French doors into the library. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him carry her through the hall and up the stairs and into their bedroom. He climbed onto the bed without letting go of her and leaned against the pillows. He cradled her against his chest, one arm holding her to him and the other softly stroking her face and her hair.

"Lucius, I…" She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, but she was almost certain that she had ought to say something considering what had just happened. She had to admit that she was pleased that Lord Voldemort had found her pleasing to him, but she was most curious as to her husband's opinion of that.

"Shhh," Lucius answered her. "The Dark Lord sensed powerful magic upon me today," he explained. "And so he called me to his side to tell him of it. And he insisted on meeting you. And you've impressed him, love." He kissed the top of her head. "We're going to change everything," Lucius stated.

"Everything but this, Lucius," Narcissa implored, nuzzling her head in the cavity between his shoulder and neck. "Promise me that this will never change." He pulled her even more tightly in to him and slid down the pillows so that they were laying flat.

"This will never change, Narcissa," he assured her. "This is forever."

THE END.

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Can you believe it? I can't. What a long strange trip it's been...what started off as a couple of little scenes in my head has become the longest piece of fic I've ever written. Thanks SO much to all of you who've read and reviewed and added this to your fav's (that's SUCH an honor to me). You have been as important to the progress and thrill of this piece as Lucius and Narcissa themselves (but boy are they bossy! Even I didn't expect them to get engaged while she was mad at him). If you've enjoyed my portrayals of these two fiesty sweethearts, I encourage you to read a few of my other pieces- listed in chronological order according to canon: (warning, shameless plugs ahead)

_Everything: On the Night of the Dark Lord's Demise _is a short piece starring Lucius and baby Draco with a Narcissa cameo appearance.

_Alarm Bells_ shows us what Lucius was up to before heading to the Department of Mysteries on that fateful June night, and it lets us see Narcissa dealing with the search of her house and perhaps why she's seen as such an ice queen by outsiders.

_The Knowledge One Possesses_ shows the lengths Narcissa is willing to go through to get her husnabd out of prison, and stars a naked Remus Lupin

_Tiny Blessings in a Cursed Place_ takes place post HBP (how far post we'll see when DH comes out) and follows Narcissa on a visit to her husband in Azkaban.

_Watching_ is an icky piece that tells of the end of Narcissa's life.

Thanks again to everyone and I'd love to know what you think of any of the other stories! CHEERS!!!

-MQ


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